Saturday, December 08, 2012


The Sun

Have you ever seen
in your life
more wonderful
than the way the sun,
every evening,
relaxed and easy,
floats toward the horizon
and into the clouds or the hills,
or the rumpled sea,
and is gone –
and how it slides again
out of the blackness
every morning,
on the other side of the world,
like a red flower
streaming upward on it heavenly oils,
say, on a morning in early summer,
at its perfect imperial distance –
and have you ever felt for anything
such wild love –
do you think there is anywhere, in any language,
a word billowing enough
for the pleasure
that fills you,
as the sun
reaches out,
as it warms you
as you stand there,
empty-handed –
or have you too
turned from this world –
or have you too
gone crazy
for power,
for things?

from New and Selected Poems, Volume One, by Mary Oliver, 1992

I've been very busy lately. And when I haven't been busy I've been sick. I haven't written much, although I yearn to. Perhaps I will find some time in the week ahead. In the meantime, here is a delightful Mary Oliver poem. A good poem for Advent, perhaps....

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