poem for a thursday

A Poem for a Thursday #95

Photo by Jongsun Lee on Unsplash

I have been puttering around for ages trying to pick a poem for today and all the ones that I like are by Mary Oliver. I know I have featured her poems many times before and I try to feature a variety of poets but today that does not seem to matter. Mary Oliver is the only acceptable choice for today.

I was sad all day, and why not. There I was, books piled
on both sides of the table, paper stacked up, words
falling off my tongue.


The robins had been a long time singing, and now it
was beginning to rain.


What are we sure of? Happiness isn’t a town on a map,
or an early arrival, or a job well done, but good work
ongoing. Which is not likely to be the trifling around
with a poem.


Then it began raining hard, and the flowers in the yard
were full of lively fragrance.


You have had days like this, no doubt. And wasn’t it
wonderful, finally, to leave the room? Ah, what a 
moment!


As for myself, I swung the door open. And there was 
the wordless, singing world. And I ran for my life. 

Work, Sometimes
Mary Oliver

A blog by a book lover, tea drinker, and over-analyzer of life.

4 Comments

  • Peggy

    I was working (at home) and saw that it was after 3 PM. I got up, because I'd promised myself I'd take a break every day at 3 PM. I went downstairs and made smoothies. We sat on the porch to partake of them, and as we sat there, a hummingbird came to the red-flowered plant I have on the porch. It checked out my husband, face to face, and then went for the red flowers. It was so close we could hear its tiny, tiny peeps. So, yes, swing the door open.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *