As you have likely heard, poet Mary Oliver recently died. I love her poetry, how it imbues the natural world with everyday magic, and inspires/invites/insists that we pay attention. I find that her poems pair exceedingly well with tea. They invite me to pause and to take notice of the place I inhabit.
Here is one of my favorite poems, from among many, many favorites:
It Was Early
~Mary Oliver, from Evidence, 2009 and published again in Devotions, 2017
~Mary Oliver, from Evidence, 2009 and published again in Devotions, 2017
It was early,
which has always been my hour
to begin looking
at the world
which has always been my hour
to begin looking
at the world
and of course,
even in the darkness,
to begin
listening into it,
even in the darkness,
to begin
listening into it,
especially
under the pines
where the owl lives
and sometimes calls out
under the pines
where the owl lives
and sometimes calls out
as I walk by,
as he did
on this morning.
So many gifts!
as he did
on this morning.
So many gifts!
What do they mean?
In the marshes
where the pink light
In the marshes
where the pink light
was just arriving
the mink
with his bristle tail
was stalking
the soft-eared mice,
with his bristle tail
was stalking
the soft-eared mice,
and in the pines
the cones were heavy,
each one
ordained to open.
the cones were heavy,
each one
ordained to open.
Sometimes I need
only to stand
wherever I am
to be blessed.
only to stand
wherever I am
to be blessed.
Little mink, let me watch you.
Little mice, run and run.
Little mice, run and run.
Dear pine cone, let me hold you
as you open.
as you open.
