Thursday, March 15, 2018
Kissing the Hem of Mary Oliver––poem by Dorothy
Kissing the Hem of Mary Oliver
Here she is, I am holding her
in my hands.
A new and weighty book,
the record of her life,
each beauty (a leaf, a star)
tumbling forth
one after another,
her memorial
her memory book,
her journey of
so many years.
She loved, was one with
nature itself,
the birds, the ponds,
the bears in the trees.
Even the insects
and snakes,
nothing was excluded,
she was the original
nature mystic
from ages past,
a goddess or queen
from some other world,
returned to ours
to give us
new eyes to see,
new ways to connect
with what so many had
forgotten
amidst the concrete
and clatter
of this home we have made,
glimpses of the realm
where our
Mother lived,
the realm from which we came.
Dorothy Walters
March 14, 2018
