Musings

Poem of the month:

WINTER

And the waves

gush pearls

from their snowy throats

as they come

leaping

over the moss-green,

black green,

glass-green roughage –

as they crumble

on the incline

scattering

whatever they carry

in their invisible

and motherly

hands:

stones,

seaweed,

mussels

icy and plump

with whaled shells

waiting

for the gatherers

who come flying

on their long white wings –

who comes walking,

who comes muttering:

thank you,

old dainties,

dark wreckage,

coins of the sea

in my pockets

and plenty for the gulls

and the wind still pounding

and the sea still streaming in like a mother wild with gifts –

in this world I am as rich

as I need to be.

 

~ Mary Oliver

 

 

 

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