Sunday Selections


All night
the dark buds of dreams

In the center
of every petal
is a letter,
and you imagine

if you could only remember
and string them all together
they would spell the answer.
It is a long night,

and not an easy one –
you have so many branches,
and there are diversions –
birds that come and go,

the black fox that lies down
to sleep beneath you,
the moon staring
with her bone-white eye.

Finally you have spent
all the energy you can
and you drag from the ground
the muddy skirt of your roots

and leap awake
with two or three syllables
like water in your mouth
and a sense

of loss – a memory
not yet of a word,
certainly not yet the answer –
only how it feels

when deep in the tree
all the locks click open,
and the fire surges through the wood,
and the blossoms blossom.

– Mary Oliver, “Dreams”

2 thoughts on “Sunday Selections

    • Love seeing your Pie Jesu candle again.

      This poem just slays me. I read it while I was at my intensive last weekend. Lock tumblers have been an evocative image for me lately (for the longest time I couldn’t think of the word for the inner parts of a lock) and now it is everywhere.

      Feeling stirred up and trying to wait patiently for the waters to settle within me. Doing mediocre at best.

      Love to you.

Join the conversation.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s