To Mary Oliver

 

WORDS

The wind and trees

Stones, and rivers.

A silent path through

woods and meadow green

Snow speaking to your

tongue

~

Words gathered on that breeze,

In the whisper of the river over rock

In the song of the birds

  on the oak and pine

On the snowflakes yearning

~

They gathered in, the

cumulous clouds

On the burst of Spring rain

In the fickle want of

nature’s gathering

~

They  found you,

open and willing

A creature tuned in to

How a fence knows a crow

How leaves know their autumn’

How a coat wears the wind

How a murmur rides a wave

How moss invites nakedness

~

Words found you

In roots and crust of bark

In the swirl of grass caught

with the wind

On the tongue of the butterfly

In the coupling of Sun to Earth

In the face of the shimmering Moon

~

There was no where Mother Nature

   did not hold you as a sacred being

Held in her loving caress

You honored the gifts and rages of

Her giving.

She told you everything

Held back nothing

She cradled you in her arms chanting

And you spoke her wisdom

~

Thank you Mary Oliver.