It seems as though
every time I go to a bookstore, I stumble upon a new poetry collection by Mary
Oliver. No discussions this time. Rather I am going to offer as many poems as I
can squeeze into three minutes from Felicity
by Mary Oliver.
Walking to Indian River – “I’m ready for spring, but it hasn’t
arrived. / Not yet. / Still I take my walk, looking for any / early
enhancements. / It’s mostly
attitude. I’m certain / I’ll see
something. / I start down the path, peering in / all directions. / The
mangroves, as always, are standing in their / beloved water, / their new leaves
very small and tender / and pale. / And, look! the way the rising sun / strikes
them, / they could be flowers / opening!” (5).
Moments – There are moments that cry out to be fulfilled. / Like, telling someone
you love them. / Or giving your money away, all of it. // Your heart is beating,
isn’t it? / You’re not in chains, are you? // There is nothing more pathetic than
caution / when headlong might save a life, / even, possibly, your own.” (9)
Nothing Is Too Small Not to Be Wondered About
– “The cricket doesn’t
wonder / if there’s a heaven / or, if there is, if there’s room for him. // It’s
fall. Romance is over. Still, he sings. / If he can, he enters a
house / through the tiniest crack under the door. / Then the house grows
colder. // He sings slower and slower. / Then, nothing. // This must mean
something, I don’t know what. / But certainly it doesn’t mean / he hasn’t been
an excellent cricket / all his life” (27).
That Little Beast – “That pretty little beast, a poem, / has a
mind of its own. / Sometimes I want it to crave apples / but it wants red meat.
/ Sometimes I want to walk peacefully / on the shore / and it wants to take off
all its clothes / and dive in. // Sometimes I want to sum up and give thanks, /
putting things in order / and it starts dancing around the room / on its four
furry legs, laughing / and calling me outrageous. // But sometimes, when I’m
thinking about you, / and no doubt smiling / it sits down quietly, one paw
under its chin, / and just listens.” (57-58).
Not Anyone Who Says – “Not anyone who says, ‘I’m going to be /
careful and smart in matters of love,” / who says, ‘I’m going to choose slowly,’
/ but only those lovers who didn’t choose at all / but were, as it were, chosen
/ by something invisible / and powerful and uncontrollable / and beautiful and
possibly even / unsuitable -- / only those know what I’s talking about / in
this talking about love.” (65).
I Don’t Want to Lose – “I don’t want to lose a single thread /
from the intricate brocade of this happiness. / I want to remember everything.
/ Which is why I am lying awake, sleepy / but not sleepy enough to give it up.
/ Just now, a moment from years ago: / the early morning light, the deft, sweet
/ gesture of your hand / reaching for me.”
(73).
Thank you Mary Oliver
for touching my heart on nearly every page of Felicity. 5 stars
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