Friday, July 13, 2012

A Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith

i get up in the mornings and every once in a while, in that gray fuzz between sleep and awakening, when the light is filtering through the blinds, I can hear the birds on the tree outside my window, the early commuters driving off down the street and i am reminded of my small, small place in this world.  i pad to the kitchen to make coffee. Even while i have slept, it is 6am somewhere and somewhere life moves, takes shapes, grows.  i have faith that i am in this way growing too.  In the gray dawn of my awareness and in the soft darkness of the unconscious.  As much as i can be reminded, i go on, oblivious. and that great chasm between the two is bridged by Faith. Faith in the dark.  

i love poetry, and i love when a poem so precisely gifts a truth wrapped perfectly, by one of my most favorites.   enjoy. 


Little Summer Poem Touching the Subject of Faith
Every summer
I listen and look
under the sun's brass and even
into the moonlight, but I can't hear
anything, I can't see anything --
not the pale roots digging down, nor the green stalks muscling up,
nor the leaves
deepening their damp pleats,
nor the tassels making,
nor the shucks, nor the cobs.
And still,
every day,
the leafy fields
grow taller and thicker --
green gowns lofting up in the night,
showered with silk.
And so, every summer,
I fail as a witness, seeing nothing --
I am deaf too
to the tick of the leaves,
the tapping of downwardness from the banyan feet --
all of it
beyond any seeable proof, or hearable hum.
And, therefore, let the immeasurable come.
Let the unknowable touch the buckle of my spine.
Let the wind turn in the trees,
and the mystery hidden in the dirt
swing through the air.
How could I look at anything in this world
and tremble, and grip my hands over my heart?
What should I fear?
One morning
in the leafy green ocean
the honeycomb of the corn's beautiful body
is sure to be there.

~ Mary Oliver ~

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