I feel like nearly any Mary Oliver poem could apply to this time of year, when everything is bursting forth.
But, I chose one.
Feast your eyes on early summer. Feast your heart on Mary’s poetry.
A happy mushroom family...
The snake we encountered...
The chipmunk who cannot resist the bird food...
The peonies and daisies brightening my room...
The trees filling in where I rest in my hammock...
The first rose in bloom...
And the first lily...
The fawn living and finding rest on our grounds...
The plant I’ve been reviving who greets the sun with open arms...
What lay on the road was no mere handful of snake. It was
the copperhead at last, golden under the street lamp. I hope
to see everything in this world before I die. I knelt on the
road and stared. Its head was wedge-shaped and fell back to
the unexpected slimness of a neck. The body itself was thick,
tense, electric. Clearly this wasn’t black snake looking down
from the limbs of a tree, or green snake, or the garter, whiz-
zing over the rocks. Where these had, oh, such shyness, this
one had none. When I moved a little, it turned and clamped
its eyes on mine; then it jerked toward me. I jumped back
and watched as it flowed on across the road and down into
the dark. My heart was pounding. I stood a while, listening
to the small sounds of the woods and looking at the stars.
After excitement we are so restful. When the thumb of fear
lifts, we are so alive.
How eager we are to be alive. Today I was in conversation with some wonderful women, and one reminded us, “We must keep saying ‘Yes!’ to life.” Look at the way nature teaches us.
Let us walk in the holy presence.