by Mary Oliver from New and Selected Poems: Volume One (Beacon Press)
1
Don't bother me.
I've just
 |
| A butterfly fuzzling--my new favorite word. |
been born.
2
The butterfly's loping flight
carries it through the country of the leaves
delicately, and well enough to get it
where it wants to go, wherever that is, stopping
here and there to fuzzle the damp throats
of flowers and the black mud; up
and down it swings, frenzied and aimless; and sometimes
for long delicious moments it is perfectly
lazy, riding motionless in the breeze on the soft stalk
of some ordinary flower.
3
The god of dirt came up to me many times and said
so many wise and delectable things, I lay
on the grass listening
to his dog voice,
crow voice,
frog voice; now,
he said, and now,
and never once mentioned forever,
4
which has nevertheless always been,
like a sharp iron hoof,
at the center of my mind.
5
One or two things are all you need
to travel over the blue pond, over the deep
roughage of the trees and through the stiff
flowers of lightning-- some deep
memory of pleasure, some cutting
knowledge of pain.
6
But to lift the hoof!
For that you need an idea.
7
For years and years I struggled
just to love my life. And then
the butterfly
rose, weightless, in the wind.
"Don't love your life
too much," it said,
and vanished into the world.
As often as I have leafed through Mary Oliver's New and Selected Poems, this particular verse has never really resonated with me, until today that is. Certainly, the theme of maintaining the tension between learning to love this life and this word, while not becoming too attached to it, echoes the thoughts that have been tumbling through my mind these past few weeks as friends I know and love are dealing with loss and grief and new ways of being in this world. And the wisdom proffered to focus on now not forever (or even tomorrow or yesterday for that matter) is always a good reminder
 |
| Pot Smash satisfaction guaranteed! |
But more than that, I think it's the fragmented structure of the poem that is echoing my mental state and physical energy at this point. Mondays I usually look forward to the clean slate of a new week, the chance to once again set an intention to focus on one task at a time. I do have a rather big project that needs to be finished today, but instead of working on that, I've done one or two or five other things already-- laundry, grocery shopping, running errands for my parents, writing this blog post, and, I confess, playing a game or two of the immensely addictive Pot Smash on my Android tablet.
The book I started over the weekend and my bed are also luring me with the siren song of a respite and possible nap on this rainy Monday-- the desire, like the butterfly to succumb to a lazy moment in the midst of activity. But just maybe it's these moments of rest, however they manifest, that allow us hold our center and rise weightless in the wind and sail off into the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment