Mary Oliver, Thirst. Boston: Beacon Press, 2006, p. 4.
When I Am Among the Trees
When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness.
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.
Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, “Stay awhile.”
The light flows from their branches.
And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,
“and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine.”
2 comments:
I am spending much of the summer up in the woods, with trees as my silent companions. Even when I can’t feel or believe in the presence of God, I can feel the presence of the trees, helping me to be grounded and in the here and now, reminding me of what is real and important, teaching me to be filled with light.
Thank you.
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