A dear friend emailed this morning and asked if I could recommend some good quotes of wisdom to give to her sister for her 30th birthday. As I do, I immediately turned to Mary Oliver (who’s “When the Roses Speak I Pay Attention” was given to me on my 30th by dear Paula). In my search for something appropriate I continued to come across poems that felt particularly relevant for this day of Thanksgiving, and I couldn’t help but share.
Enjoy.
Praying
It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones: just
pay attention, then patch
a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway
Into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.
Messenger
My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird–
equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums.
Here the clam deep in speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half perfect? let me
keep my mind on what matters,
which is my work,
Which is mostly standing still and learning to be
astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,
Which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart
and these body-clothes,
a mouth with which to give shouts of joy
to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
telling them all, over and over, how it is
that we live forever.
Red Bird
Red bird came all winter
firing up the landscape
as nothing else could.
Of course I love the sparrows,
those dun-colored darlings,
so hungry and so many.
I am a God-fearing feeder of birds.
I know He has many children,
not all of them bold in spirit.
Still, for whatever reason–
perhaps because the winter is so long
and the sky so black-blue,
or perhaps because the heart narrows
as often as it opens–
I am grateful
that red bird comes all winter
firing up the landscape
as nothing else can do.
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