Too Short for a Blog Post, Too Long for a Tweet 415

 

Here are a few excerpts from a book I recently read, "Devotions," by Mary Oliver.

For Tom Shaw SSJE (1945-2014)

“Where has this cold come from?"

“It comes from the death of your friend.”

Will I always, from now on, be this cold?

“No, it will diminish. But always it will be with you.”

What is the reason for it?

“Wasn’t your friendship always as beautiful as a flame?”  



I Go Down To The Shore

I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall—
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do. 



How I Go to the Woods

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.