6 stanzas from, for, Mary
The reckless blossom of weeds
The soft essence of vanished flowers
The brittle beauty of certainty
The particular island of this summer
We are more than blood
We are more than our hunger and yet we belong
The heavens hold a million candles, still
The silence is immense
We expect the darkness and turn nightly from it
Not everything is possible, some things are impossible
How shall I touch you unless it is everywhere?
The perfect beginning and conclusion of our own
You do what you can if you can
Whatever the secret and the pain
Patches of cold wet fire after fire after fire
It’s white rhetoric glitters everywhere
Not a single answer has been found
Yet the walking silence and growing light under the trees feels like one
All of the above lines are taken from Mary Oliver’s seminal collection of poetry, American Primitive.
Of course, all creative brilliance goes to her – I’m repurposing, remixing, recycling, and remediating. Musical credit to the ever wonderful George Gershwin (Fascinating Rhythm, 1924), now fully ensconced within the public domain + Pixabay for the time-lapse.)