Last year for my birthday wonderful Pob sent a
book of poetry I'd been coveting and I thought that today would be a good day for a poem.
Over the last while I've gotten some great books (Charles deLint with Chris' Amazon Gift Cert last year, as well as others) and although I know you know how much I love books, I thought it would nice to make sure you that you all know that a gift you've given me is treasured.
Still.
Dark is as dark does.
~~
Something with the smallest wings shakes itself
from under a thumb of bark.
The ocean breathes in its silver jacket.
~~
Outside, hanging on the trellis, in the moonlight,
the flowers are opening, each one
as fancy in its unfurl as a difficult thought.
~~
So we cross the dark together.
~~
Outside: the almost liquid beauty of the flowers.
~~
Now the linnets wake.
Now the pearls of their voices are falling
in the morning light.
~~
Did we sleep long? Is it this life still, or
is it the next life, already? Are we gone, then?
Are we there?
~~
How will we ever know?
Mary Oliver
Article originally appeared on if you're not a penguin...shut it (http://www.airbornepathojen.com/).
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