Trying to explain it to them
Leaves one feeling ridiculous and obscene
Their houses, like white bowls,
Sit on a prairie of ancient snowfalls
Caught beyond thaw or the swift changes
Of night and day.
They listen politely, and stride away
With spears and sleds and barking dogs
To hunt for food. The women wait
Chewing on skins or singing songs,
Knowing that they have hours to spend,
That the luck of the hunter is often late.
Later, by fires and boiling bones
In steaming kettles, they welcome me,
Far kin, pale brother,
To share what they have in a hungry time
In a difficult land. While I talk on
Of the southern kingdoms, cannon, armies,
Shifting alliances, airplanes, power,
They chew their bones, and smile at one another.
Mary Oliver
{ 4 comments… read them below or add one }
Dear sister,
This is deeply moving…
I love Mary Oliver…
Thank you for bringing such beauty into the world my friend,
For carrying the light,
With love to you and your beloveds, M
Dear Maithri,
My favorite poem from John Keats:
“Beauty is truth, truth beauty. That is all ye know on Earth, and all ye need to know.”
If you love Mary Oliver, here is a wonderful poetry site that I know you will enjoy. It is beautiful with images and poetry of people like Mary Oliver, Jane Hirshfield, Billy Collins, David Whyte, Rilke, Wendell Berry and the many other favorites like Rumi.
http://www.panhala.net/Archive/Index.html
You and I share the beauty we know and love, that is why we were born!
May the beauty of your loving heart cast its glow on all you meet!
They achieve by being what we strive for in so many ways.
Hello Mark,
I agree, the ease and beauty of Beingness contains all.
Peaceful Cheers.
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