I’m fond of poetry, but often forget to give it my time. I’d like to share one that I find tranquil, in this time of stress and worry. It is from a little book I picked up the last time we were in Port Angeles by Mary Oliver, called Twelve Moons. The poem is the first one in the book and is titled “Sleeping in the Forest.”
Sleeping In The Forest
I thought the earth
remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arraigning
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on a riverbed, nothing
between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated
light as moths among the branches
of the perfect trees. All night
I heard the small kingdoms breathing
around me, the insects, and the birds
who do their work in the darkness. All night
I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling
with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.
Mom, I promise to write more. He’s such a..."
[...] continue with National Poetry Month, I’d like to introduce you, or re-introduce you (as the case may be) to Mary [...]