And whenever I feel like there's nothing I can do, I always turn to poetry. Always.
This poem in particular speaks to me in times of grief and powerlessness:
In Blackwater Woods
by Mary Oliver
Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned
Every year
everything
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.
What poems do you turn to in times of grief? For more poetry visit the amazing Laura at Writing the World for Kids!
Thank you for sharing this poem. I lost a very special friend this week and it's been hard. These words help to soothe.
ReplyDeleteThe first grief poem that came to my mind was "The Thing Is" by Ellen Bass.
ReplyDeleteThe Thing Is
by Ellen Bass
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you've held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
I love this, Tabatha. Very very beautiful. :)
DeleteTabatha, thank you SO MUCH for sharing this poem. I didn't know it, and it speaks to me.
DeleteSo sorry for your friend, Irene. I wasn't familiar with this Mary Oliver poem - it is beautiful, and its simple words difficult.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Robyn.
DeleteBeautiful poem, Irene. I love Mary Oliver and hadn't read this one. Poems often do say what we cannot find words for.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Joyce. Mary Oliver is so good at using nature to express human things.
DeleteSo sorry to hear the sad news. The Mary Oliver poem is beautiful. You're right. There's nothing for grief but poetry.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Jama.
Deleteyour friendship is all I need I shared the poem thanks
ReplyDeletenot enough. Love you, girl.
DeleteI'm so sorry. I know that feeling. I love this poem. It makes me think in some ways of Charlotte's Web, which I just read with the class, and the way he shows his great love for the world by putting death in the book, as part of the web and cycles. Take care of your beautiful self.
ReplyDeleteYes to Charlotte's Web and how death is a part of life. Thank you, Jeannine.
DeleteSo true, you have to hold on and let go. And so difficult.
ReplyDeleteOh, the letting go. SO HARD. Thank you, Ruth.
DeleteHi Irene, like you when words are not sufficient to make the pain go away, I turn to poetry. Just today, I posted a review of Patrick Ness' A Monster Calls on my blog - it also speaks of 'wordless truths riddled with pain' - a perfect book that knows grief and loss - not poetry, no, but close enough to make the pain ease up a little bit. :)
ReplyDeleteBoth the Oliver poem you shared, and the Bass poem Tabatha shared are perfect reminders. Grief is never easy, but to remember that no matter how painful the end is, we'd still chose to live, to love, to
ReplyDelete"hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again."
On a lighter note, are you going to join in Ed DeCaria's March Madness?
ReplyDeletehttp://www.thinkkidthink.com/madness-2012/
Irene, I missed finding you yesterday. I'm sorry for your loss. We too experienced a loss in this past week. I have often turned to what I've called 'goodbye' poems when I experience a loss & sometimes have sent a poem to a friend with my note. I'm glad to hear you receive comfort from poetry in your grief. I find comfort in poetry for a myriad of reasons. Here is one I love & keep close:
ReplyDeleteSometimes Goodbye ...
Sometimes Goodbye
is the hardest thing to say
Old times a mist
Old people--ghosts therein
And sometimes goodbye
is the hardest thing to do
Shadows of ghosts
forever etched on our souls
It matters not
If they be friend or foe
Good times or bad
We sit back and watch
While parts of our lives
Slowly fade into the backdrop
And a profound awareness
Washes over us
Mortality becomes realized, recognized
Forever seems like not such a long time
After all
However, good-byes must be said
They must be done
Old things must be released
To free our arms
For the embrace of the new
Knowing well that as we let go of some things
Memories live on
And etchings never fade.
by Mandie McDougal
Mary Oliver's poems really get to the heart. Thanks for sharing this one.
ReplyDelete