Last Days
by Mary Oliver
Things are changing;
things are starting to
spin, snap, fly off into
the blue sleeve of the long
afternoon.
Oh and ooh
come whistling
outof the perished mouth
of the grass, as things
turn soft, boil back
into substance and hue.
As everything,
forgetting its own enchantment,
whispers:
I too love oblivion why not
it is full
of second chances.
Now,
hiss the bright curls of the leaves.
Now!
booms the muscle
of the wind.
A Blessing
May my mind come alive today
To the invisible geography
That invites us to new frontiers
To break the dead shell of yesterdays
To risk being disturbed and changed.
May I have the courage today
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more.
John O'Donohue
3 comments:
What beautiful poems!!
http://truxillodailyphoto.blogspot.com.au/2010/10/she-is-here.html
Remember the quip I made a few posts back about heading
for 'one-arched-eyebrow croneland' or something along those lines?
There is a transition zone, in Peru, between the eastern lowland
forests and the Andes' highlands called Ceja de la Montana
or "eyebrow of the mountain".
Are we there yet?
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