in the cold light of morning …
2010
… when the hustle and bustle of breakfast, preparations for the school and work days are over; the girl and the husband depart and I am left sitting here. The house is silent. The clock ticks. The wind yawns, lashing the remaining leaves on the oak. The old wooden windows rattle. The sun teases me … it has finally graced me with its presence, but I know that at any moment, a change will roar in from the south west, the light will be extinguished and once more, we will be plunged into the soup of winter grey.
I must confess, since moving, I find these solitary mornings quite mournful. I mooch and stare and ponder. There is so much I could be doing, so many projects winking at me coquettishly from their baskets and bundles. And yet, I find it very hard to stir myself into a smooth contentment of enthusiasm and energy.
Can you hear the strains of self pity? :-) I can. So this week, I am drawing on the beautiful words that surround me and am prodding myself into action. Mary Oliver – I only recently discovered her through a book return. You see, every now and then at the bookstore, we trawl through our vast stock to identify the titles that have been collecting dust bunnies for many, many months.
A few weeks ago, I came in to find a volume of poetry sitting atop the counter waiting for me to mark it off, box it, and send it back to the publisher. I looked at the cover – hmmm … hadn’t seen it before. I liked the poet’s turtleneck and jumper, and her baggy eyes (I relate to baggy eyes, suffering from them myself) so flipped the book open and what did I find? An utterly perfect poem painting the autumn magic of mushrooms. We had been mushroom gathering the day before, amongst the damp pine forests of Daylesford, and Mary Oliver’s images were so startling true, I knew I had found a kindred spirit. I crossed the book off the returns list and popped it onto my pile instead.
Earlier this week, continuing my long and lovely reading of her words, I found this … (Ms. Oliver, I hope you don’t mind me sharing it here)
:: Morning Poem ::
Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange
sticks of the sun
the heaped ashes of the night
turn into leaves again
and fasten themselves to the high branches -
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands
of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails
for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit carries within it
the thorn
that is heavier than lead -
if it’s all you can do
to keep on trudging -
there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted -
each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,
whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.
(from The Dream Work, 1986)
Oh. Is this not the most perfect poem to start a wobbly day with? No matter whether I choose to sit and mooch and stare and ponder, or embrace the day, enjoying its blessings and making the most of its opportunities; it will be there, in all of its beauty, waiting for me. I don’t want to carry that thorn of homesickness, heavier than lead. I want to swim happily along the soft trails, because they are lovely and full of promise, no matter where I am.
So, yesterday, I lit a candle, re-read the poem, letting Ms. Oliver’s words truly sink into me and it was good. There was a flurry of knitting (the school scarf) and kitchen rearranging. I find rearranging an incredibly satisfying thing to do – it must be its very quality of nesting, of embedding myself deeper into my home. This morning, amidst the hustle and bustle, Abby and I made peaches and cream cupcakes from here (yet another saved return!) for her to share on her school excursion to the Werribee Wildlife Park.
Now the house is silent, the clock ticks, the wind yawns, the windows rattle but I am not waiting for the sun to scurry away. I am too fully absorbed in, too conscious of all that the day offers. Thank you Ms. Oliver.
14 comments
Trackback e pingback
No trackback or pingback available for this article
I have loved her poems for years. They are a treasure…words to keep in your heart.
I so enjoy all of your creations.
Take care, ellen k.
Have you been to William Ricketts Sanctuary yet?
http://www.parkweb.vic.gov.au/1park_display.cfm?park=216
I’ve only been there in winter and thought it was perfect. Walking along the paths with a bit of fog still in the air and everything still covered in dew.
*sigh* I really should dig out my photos…
What a beautiful poem. What a serendipitous meeting you had with the book. And, can I say, what an adorable backpack! Take good care, my friend!
Oh and thank you for sharing this with us. It’s beautiful and all the sentiments, the anxiety, the lethargy, the inertia of facing several uninterrupted hours without your children, really resonates for me. I know the feeling well. Thanks again. I enjoyed visiting and will come back.
That is a lovely way to start the morning! I only know one of Mary Oliver’s poems… also found by chance one day… which is called “Wild Geese”, and which I’d highly recommend reading on days where you feel you should be doing more than you really are!!
There are many ‘thorns’ weighing heavily on me this morning. Thank you for the ray of light. I’m going to print this poem out and keep it on my desk today, drinking from it when I need refreshment. Thank you for sharing.
meaningful coincidence in the form of a beautiful poem… those sweet daisies on your lovely cupcakes are sure to cheerup any dull day :)
Abby’s doll on her backpack is adorable! I just want to pinch his/her cheeks ;)
Nice post! I enjoy the way you “look” at life. It is quite quaint and refreshing. Thank you…
OMG- That poem is amazing- I read it twice.
I needed to read that at the exact moment I did- Thank you for sharing it!
love. love. love.
xo
~erin
This is why TV robs us. Noise robs us of the silent moments, the time when we can just be. Be still. And be us. Listening to the things we need to do and need to be thankful for. Lovely post Lily.
YOU Miss Boot, you are the poet, the writer, the inspiration. You should be the one putting your amazingly beautiful and equally meanungful words into print so others may light a candle and let them soak in. Truly. I read many blogs where people so dearly TRY to be deep and poetic and meaningful and I just smile and their earnest trying. But you, my dear, you have it.
Thank you for sharing it.
I too can echo your sentiments. When this happens I count my blessings with a cup of tea and then choose a new audiobook (free from librevox.com or paid) and start a project creating something beautiful. The story really gets me going.
Thankyou so much for sharing this poem. It’s quiet, thoughtful and beautiful, and this post was a great tonic x