National Poetry Month #13: Mary Oliver at her Best

It is hard to single out favorite poems by poets you admire. There are so many poems, so many messages. Often the meaning of the poem hits me at a time that I can relate to a strong message.  That is the case today. Enjoy one my favorites by Mary Oliver. Once we understand our natural timeline in life, we move on.

“The Journey,” by Mary Oliver, from Dreamwork (Atlantic Monthly Press).

The Journey One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice—
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.

National Poetry Month #12: Easter Hymn

memorial on Bow highway, Skagit Valley



There are so many hymns that speak to my heart at Easter. This is a favorite.

I Know that My Redeemer Lives
By: Samuel Medley
I know that my Redeemer lives!
What comfort this sweet sentence gives!
He lives, he lives, who once was dead;
He lives, my ever living head!
He lives triumphant from the grave;
He lives eternally to save;
He lives exalted, throned above;
He lives to rule his Church in love.
He lives to grant me rich supply;
He lives to guide me with his eye;
He lives to comfort me when faint;
He lives to hear my soul’s complaint.
He lives to silence all my fears;
He lives to wipe away my tears;
He lives to calm my troubled heart;
He lives all blessings to impart.
He lives to bless me with his love;
He lives to plead for me above;
He lives my hungry soul to feed;
He lives to help in time of need.
He lives, my kind, wise, heavenly friend;
He lives and loves me to the end;
He lives, and while he lives, I’ll sing;
He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King!
He lives and grants me daily breath;
He lives, and I shall conquer death;
He lives my mansion to prepare;
He lives to bring me safely there.
He lives, all glory to his name!
He lives, my savior, still the same;
What joy this blest assurance gives:
I know that my Redeemer lives!

National Poetry Month #11: Photographer

 This is dedicated to my brother Bill Woolum, my favorite photographer.

Photographer

Light has limits. What he can't see

He believes in. He tacks up background.

Shadows explode from a flash.

Winter trees, victims.

Noon comes to find him

At home in the color blue

Whistling in a minor key.

In his dark room, he seeks clarity-

Turns to acid

In unmarked bottles.

Light in the abstract bores him.

His shapes labor against light,

Make gestures in space like mimes.

At midnight he puzzles what presence eludes him.

The space between trees,

The moon's other side,

Eclipse spins from his thumb.

Sunrise. Sunset.

He can never get it right.

- Carol Muske

Black and white photos by brother Bill. I am responsible for the pictures of Bill taking pictures.

National Poetry Month #10: Thank You

Two words that resonated with me today: thank you.

Thanks
by W. S. Merwin
Listen with the night falling we are saying thank you we are stopping on the bridges to bow from the railings we are running out of the glass rooms with our mouths full of food to look at the sky and say thank you we are standing by the water thanking it smiling by the windows looking out in our directions back from a series of hospitals back from a mugging after funerals we are saying thank you after the news of the dead whether or not we knew them we are saying thank you over telephones we are saying thank you in doorways and in the backs of cars and in elevators remembering wars and the police at the door and the beatings on stairs we are saying thank you in the banks we are saying thank you in the faces of the officials and the rich and of all who will never change we go on saying thank you thank you with the animals dying around us our lost feelings we are saying thank you with the forests falling faster than the minutes of our lives we are saying thank you with the words going out like cells of a brain with the cities growing over us we are saying thank you faster and faster with nobody listening we are saying thank you we are saying thank you and waving dark though it is

National Poetry Month #9 : Favoring Billy Collins

Billy Collins came through today and provided a priceless poem to describe one of those rare, perfect spring days. 

Today  

by Billy Collins

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,

so uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

that it made you want to throw

open all the windows in the house

and unlatch the door to the canary's cage,

indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

a day when the cool brick paths

and the garden bursting with peonies

seemed so etched in sunlight

that you felt like taking

a hammer to the glass paperweight

on the living room end table,

releasing the inhabitants

from their snow-covered cottage

so they could walk out,

holding hands and squinting

into this larger dome of blue and white,

well, today is just that kind of day.

Source: Poetry (April 2000). 

A Time to Plant

Today was the first time I got my hands into the dirt and did some planting. I started this week-end with containers since there are not many plants safe to put out in the ground yet. I did some plant shopping over spring break and today I mixed soil, added fertilizer and got the plants into the containers.

Primroses are such warriors in a spring garden. I love those first blossoms after a long winter. I love the color of the one at the top of the post.I discovered a new primrose on my recent trip. This is called a Drumstick Primrose.Of course I had to buy it. I love the pansies at the base of the container.

Pansies are another early spring favorite of mine. So many colors and "faces". I always know they will endure cooler weather.

I brought home two blooming shrubs from my trip also. I am just going to keep them in their original pots for now not to disrupt their blooming. I couldn't resist their bright blooms.