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April 18, 2012 by Jeane George Weigel 6 Comments

Have You Ever Entered… by Mary Oliver

From Mary Oliver, one of my favorite poets.

Have You Ever Tried to Enter the Long Black Branches?

Have you ever tried to enter the long black branches of other lives —
tried to imagine what the crisp fringes, full of honey, hanging
from the branches of the young locust trees, in early morning, feel like?

Do you think this world was only an entertainment for you?

Never to enter the sea and notice how the water divides
with perfect courtesy, to let you in!
Never to lie down on the grass, as though you were the grass!
Never to leap to the air as you open your wings over the dark acorn of your heart!

No wonder we hear, in your mournful voice, the complaint
that something is missing from your life!

Who can open the door who does not reach for the latch?
Who can travel the miles who does not put one foot
in front of the other, all attentive to what presents itself
continually?
Who will behold the inner chamber who has not observed
with admiration, even with rapture, the outer stone?

Well, there is time left —
fields everywhere invite you into them.

And who will care, who will chide you if you wander away
from wherever you are, to look for your soul?

Quickly, then, get up, put on your coat, leave your desk!

To put one’s foot into the door of the grass, which is
the mystery, which is death as well as life, and
not be afraid!

To set one’s foot in the door of death, and be overcome
with amazement!

To sit down in front of the weeds, and imagine
god the ten-fingered, sailing out of his house of straw,
nodding this way and that way, to the flowers of the
present hour,
to the song falling out of the mockingbird’s pink mouth,
to the tippets of the honeysuckle, that have opened

in the night

To sit down, like a weed among weeds, and rustle in the wind!

Listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?

While the soul, after all, is only a window,

and the opening of the window no more difficult
than the wakening from a little sleep.

Only last week I went out among the thorns and said
to the wild roses:
deny me not,
but suffer my devotion.
Then, all afternoon, I sat among them. Maybe

I even heard a curl or tow of music, damp and rouge red,
hurrying from their stubby buds, from their delicate watery bodies.

For how long will you continue to listen to those dark shouters,
caution and prudence?
Fall in! Fall in!

A woman standing in the weeds.
A small boat flounders in the deep waves, and what’s coming next
is coming with its own heave and grace.

Meanwhile, once in a while, I have chanced, among the quick things,
upon the immutable.
What more could one ask?

And I would touch the faces of the daises,
and I would bow down
to think about it.

That was then, which hasn’t ended yet.

Now the sun begins to swing down. Under the peach-light,
I cross the fields and the dunes, I follow the ocean’s edge.

I climb, I backtrack.
I float.
I ramble my way home.

From West Wind: Poems and Prose Poems, by Mary Oliver

Love to you all,
Jeane


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Filed Under: Wisdom Wednesdays

Comments

  1. Kim Moore says

    April 18, 2012 at 6:51 am

    I’ve been daring to think of early retirement recently.  The lines  “Quickly, then, get up, put on your coat, leave your desk!” seem to me like a sign from the universe.  I love this…love Mary Oliver.  Thank you for introducing her work to me.

    Reply
    • HighRoadArtist says

      April 18, 2012 at 1:14 pm

      It pleases me very much to know that anything on the blog might be a support or inspiration to you. That particular line stood out for me as well. Let me know what you do with this “sign from the universe.”

      Reply
  2. Grace says

    April 18, 2012 at 8:38 am

    Beautiful poem….lovely. I also just got Pema Chodrons email…I always love being reminded of this – with the poem you blogged and now Pema,  my form of meditation is my daily Qigong – you always have your writing and painting:)
    April
    18, 2012
    WHO
    WE ARE
    Meditation
    practice isn’t about trying to throw ourselves away and become something better.
    It’s about befriending who we are already. The ground of practice is you or me
    or whoever we are right now, just as we are. That’s the ground, that’s what we
    study, that’s what we come to know with tremendous curiosity and interest. 

    Reply
    • HighRoadArtist says

      April 18, 2012 at 1:16 pm

      Ah, that is beautiful, Grace, and a lovely companion piece to Mary’s poem. Thank you.

      Yes writing, painting and walking are forms of meditation for me.

      Reply
  3. Deborah Smith says

    April 18, 2012 at 5:20 pm

    I am fighting lukemia and so much stress with doctors ,test, treatment have not had time to paint the way i want ,this touched me very powerfully, thank you for sharing this.

    Reply
    • HighRoadArtist says

      April 18, 2012 at 6:21 pm

      I’m so very glad this poem gave you some support today. Mary Oliver has seen me through a lot. Many blessings to you and wishes for a speedy recovery and some comfort in these moments.

      Reply

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About Me

About High Road Artist IMG 9461 150x150I am Jeane George Weigel, a working artist living in the mountains of northern New Mexico, and I do not think you and I are so different.

Every single one of us longs to know what we ache for, to “follow our bliss” as Joseph Campbell famously put it. You may find yours as an artist, a writer, or a teacher. But I am convinced we all yearn to live what is in our hearts. Some of us spend a lifetime discovering what that is. Some never find it.

This blog is about a journey of self-discovery, yours and mine. I write about the experience of living an artist’s life and share musings and photos as this living experiment unfolds. It is my hope you’ll join in the conversation by writing to me about your lives and I dearly hope something, here, will inspire you.

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