Poppies
Mary Oliver
The poppies send up their
orange flares; swaying
in the wind, their congregations
are a levitation
of bright dust, of thin
and lacy leaves.
There isn't a place
in this world that doesn't
sooner or later drown
in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,
the roughage
shines like a miracle
as it floats above everything
with its yellow hair.
Of course nothing stops the cold,
black, curved blade
from hooking forward—
of course
loss is the great lesson.
But I also say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness,
and that happiness,
when it's done right,
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive.
Inside the bright fields,
touched by their rough and spongy gold,
I am washed and washed
in the river
of earthly delight—
and what are you going to do—
what can you do
about it—
deep, blue night?
sourced from: http://www.cs.berkeley.edu/~richie/poetry/html/aupoem142.html
I only discovered the poetry of Mary Oliver in the last year, and I have very quickly fallen in love.
While being bogged down in a mountain of study last week, I was excited to see a Mary Oliver poem on my text list for English class.
And I was blown away by this one!
Redemption from, and through, darkness is such a large part of my story. So I was instantly drawn to this reflection on light and darkness. Everything might die or darken, but we can still appreciate beauty and happiness... And as Oliver writes doing so "is a kind of holiness,/palpable and redemptive."
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