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“How wonderful to be who I am,
made out of earth and water,
my own thoughts, my own fingerprints -
all that glorious, temporary stuff.”
― Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver
made out of earth and water,
my own thoughts, my own fingerprints -
all that glorious, temporary stuff.”
― Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver
“One summer night I fell asleep hoping the world would be different when I woke. In the morning, when I opened my eyes, the world was the same.”
― Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
― Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe
“Let me keep my distance, always, from those who think they have the answers.”
― Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver
― Devotions: The Selected Poems of Mary Oliver
“Half of life is lost in charming others.
The other half is lost in going through anxieties caused by others.
Leave this play. You have played enough.”
―
The other half is lost in going through anxieties caused by others.
Leave this play. You have played enough.”
―
“I Worried"
I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?
Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.”
― Swan: Poems and Prose Poems
I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not how shall
I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?
Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?
Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.”
― Swan: Poems and Prose Poems
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