6.19.2009

Required Reading

I'd like to share this with you today. 
A poem from Mary Oliver's book of poetry Red Bird

Maker of All Things, Even Healings

All night
under the pines
the fox
moves through the darkness
with a mouthful of teeth
and a reputation for death
which it deserves.
In the spicy 
villages of the mice
he is famous,
his nose
in the grass
is like an earthquake,
his feet
on the path
is a message so absolute
that the mouse, hearing it,
makes himself
as small as he can
as he sits silent
or, trembling, goes on
hunting among the grasses
for the ripe seeds.
Maker of All Things,
including appetite,
including stealth,
including the fear that makes
all of us, sometime or other,
flee for the sake
of our small and precious lives,
let me abide in your shadow -
let me hold on
to the edge of your robe
as you determine
what you must let be lost
and what will be saved. 

1 comment:

Leave me a sweet comment and then go have a donut. It's the most fulfilling duo. Do it, you'll see!

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