Poetry from Recovery
One by Mary Oliver and two by the author
“Mindful” by Mary Oliver
Everyday
I see or hear
something
that more or less
kills me
with delight,
that leaves me
like a needle
in the haystack
of light.
It was what I was born for —
to look, to listen,
to lose myself
inside this soft world —
to instruct myself
over and over
in joy,
and acclamation.
Nor am I talking
about the exceptional,
the fearful, the dreadful,
the very extravagant —
but of the ordinary,
the common, the very drab,
the daily presentations.
Oh, good scholar,
I say to myself,
how can you help
but grow wise
with such teachings
as these —
the untrimmable light
of the world,
the ocean’s shine,
the prayers that are made
out of grass?
“Mindful” by Mary Oliver from Why I Wake Early. © Beacon Press, 2005.
I am Love
God said, I am love.
And I replied, I am love.
And all the dogs on the couch, the birds in their house,
And the sheep, and the chickens, and the she-ass
Together they said, we too are love.
And the melting snow with her running creeks, her rivers, and her seas,
the closest thing to infinity I can touch,
Together they said, we also,
We are love.
And the fields jeweled with flowers and the sprouts in the window,
And the garlic in its bed all said
We are love.
And all together, in the harmony of what was heard,
In the perfection of every breath,
We said
We are love,
We are all love,
And we are all one,
And there is only God.
Love Waits
Love waits, does not hurry,
Does not dam its own currents,
Is not limited by space or time; by thought or place.
Seeks nothing for itself.
Desires only the opening of flowers, the smiles of small children,
and growth of the soul.
Love is not haughty, not self sure,
Never cumbersome nor heavy.
Love will never lie nor bear false witness.
Love rains on each and all, shines upon the evil and the fair.
Love can feed the hungry, bring sight to ancient eyes, give laughter to
the heart.
Love wills not to control, contrive, nor convince.
Love will drive the fearing from my heart.
Love waits.
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