Life in the Slow Lane

Contemplating life, faith, words, and memories

Dancing in the Rain — June 15, 2022

Dancing in the Rain

Summer weather is stalling here in the Pacific Northwest. A day here or there. Maybe two. Yet we are still waiting for warmer days.
 
Weather predictions of an atmospheric river brought in rain showers last Friday. The large magnificent rhododendron blossoms we had watched open didn’t last long. Intermittent heavy rain showers changed them quickly.

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On Winter’s Margin by Mary Oliver — April 13, 2022

On Winter’s Margin by Mary Oliver

Sitting here in the Pacific NW in mid-April, dark gray days with rain one day, snow the next. Sometimes wind and thunderstorms. Dumping of hail yesterday; it lingers still. I watch for nature’s population. Mary Oliver had a unique perspective on nature as can be seen in her poem, On Winter’s Margin.

I had another post underway for today, but our weather patterns in Oregon have been rather strange. Maybe they are mystifying where you live as well. One day last week we enjoyed a sunny day with a temperature of 75. Then our weather predictors began talking snow from the height of the mountains down to the valley floor where we live. My first paragraph above describes this week, so far. These conditions drew me to Oliver’s poem.

Now sit back and enjoy Mary Oliver’s poem. As always, Oliver fills her stanzas with an understanding of shadow and light both in nature and in human nature.

Sherrey

 

Featured Image Attribution:  Photo by Valentin Hintikka on Unsplash 

 



ON WINTER'S MARGIN by Mary Oliver

On winter’s margin, see the small birds now
With half-forged memories come flocking home
To gardens famous for their charity.
The green globe’s broken; vines like tangled veins
Hang at the entrance to the silent wood.

With half a loaf, I am the prince of crumbs;
By snow’s down, the birds amassed will sing
Like children for their sire to walk abroad!
But what I love, is the gray stubborn hawk
Who floats alone beyond the frozen vines;
And what I dream of are the patient deer
Who stand on legs like reeds and drink that wind; -

They are what saves the world: who choose to grow
Thin to a starting point beyond this squalor.

~~ From Famous Poets & Poems

 

The Well Rising :: Poem by William E. Stafford — April 6, 2022

The Well Rising :: Poem by William E. Stafford

The Well Rising

 
The well rising without sound,
the spring on a hillside,
the plowshare brimming through deep ground
everywhere in the field—
 
The sharp swallows in their swerve
flaring and hesitating
hunting for the final curve
coming closer and closer—
 
The swallow heart from wingbeat to wingbeat
counseling decision, decision:
thunderous examples. I place my feet
with care in such a world.
 

For a biography of William E. Stafford, please visit Poetry Foundation.
“The Well Rising” copyright 1960, 1998 the Estate of William Stafford. Reprinted from The Way It Is with the permission of Graywolf Press

Source: The Darkness Round Us Is Deep (HarperPerennial, 1993)
 
Featured image attribution: Edith Johnson from Pixabay
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