February 8, 2015

words | not yet

Because I am surrounded by life's transitions - more lately - and often frustrated by them, a calming perspective today in the form of a poem by my favorite, Mary Oliver, whose new book was a lovely gift.  My grandfather passed on last year and I thinking of him as being a part of all things now.

Giambologna's largest work, the mountain god, Appennino (1577) It sits outside of Florence, Italy.


I'm not the river
that powerful presence.
And I'm not the black oak tree
which is patience personified.
And I'm not redbird
who is a brief life heartily enjoyed
Nor am I mud nor rock nor sand
which is holding everything together.
No, I am none of these meaningful things, 
not yet.

*as always, click on photo to link to original image

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