Poetry Friday round-up is at The Miss Rumphius Effect
Mary Oliver has died and the whole world is mourning. I checked my Facebook page at the end of the day and found that most of my “friends” were posting Mary Oliver’s words. Every one of them connected me to her, to the natural world, and to these people. It was like our own wake, of sorts.
I was introduced to the poetry of Mary Oliver by my good friend Nettie who died this past fall. I imagine they are both writing poems on the clouds. When I was at a crossroad in my teaching career, Nettie sent me the poem Wild Geese. I listened to it over and over and have most of the lines memorized. This poem saved me at a time when I needed to be saved.
I looked on the poetry shelf in my study and pulled out my collection of Mary Oliver books. I found that I have two copies of A Thousand Mornings. If you would like a copy and live in the continental US, leave a comment. I’ll let you know by email if you are the winner.
Mary Oliver had a way of placing you in the moment with her and in a sense, saying a prayer. This poem from A Thousand Mornings places me with her, thinking through things, and noticing with pen in air.
I Happened to be Standing
I don’t know where prayers go,
or what they do.
Do cats pray, while they sleep
half-asleep in the sun?
Does the opossum pray as it
crosses the street?
The sunflowers? The old black oak
growing older every year?
I know I can walk through the world,
along the shore or under the trees,
with my mind filled with things
of little importance, in full
self-attendance. A condition I can’t really
call being alive.
Is a prayer a gift, or a petition,
or does it matter?
The sunflowers blaze, maybe that’s their way.
Maybe the cats are sound asleep. Maybe not.While I was thinking this I happened to be standing
just outside my door, with my notebook open,
which is the way I begin every morning.
Then a wren in the privet began to sing.
He was positively drenched in enthusiasm,
I don’t know why. And yet, why not.
I wouldn’t persuade you from whatever you believe
or whatever you don’t. That’s your business.
But I thought, of the wren’s singing, what could this be
if it isn’t a prayer?
So I just listened, my pen in the air.–Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings. The Penguin Press, New York, 2012.
I do not presume that my poetry is in any realm of comparison to Mary Oliver’s, but I was moved to write this morning, a way of expressing how her words are written on my heart.
A Misty Mary Morning
I’m walking through a misty world
thinking of Mary. Her words turn
night to day, day to night,
an answer to prayer, a comfort to loss.She taught me to notice things
like the bird breaking dawn with song.
She would notice the sound
and sing along. I hold handswith every poet and poetry lover
across the world. We are united
in our collective breath
wishing with Mary for a resurrectionof amazement.
(c) Margaret Simon, 2019
Nikki Grimes wrote this post on Facebook (and gave me permission to repost.)
Mary Oliver, Sister of my heart, how I will miss you! Your absence feels impossible.
IN PASSING
A poet passes
soul rising heavy as ode,
or light as haiku.
Who knows? But You, the Author
whose words are for her, alone.(c) 2019 Nikki Grimes
Reflections on the Teche 
Margaret, I love the idea that this flood of mourning online is “our wake, of sorts.” And your poem tribute is breathtaking. What a perfect wish for her at the end: amazement.
Your tribute is very touching. Thank you for sharing. Once a friend shared with me the poetry of Mary Oliver, I was in awe of her writing. Her poems spoke to me of her openness to nature.
Thank you for sharing. Lovely words for a poet from poets.
I too learned about Mary Oliver’s passing via social media. I’ve only read one of her books – Upstream – after listening to her interview for the podcast On Being. A unique individual who made life richer with her words and ideas.
This is very moving, Margaret. We are all connected in this grief, in this moment of revelation, in the words we so revere from Mary. Taking time to notice and see deeper than you think you can. Notice so much more without even trying. Then all of it making a sun-blazing sense when you least expect it. She was a pebble, a gem, a rock, a meteor. Lucky us to be around her glow.
Oh, Margaret, each part of your post is wonderful, Mary’s poem, Nikki’s poem, and your “Misty Mary Morning” is simply and beautifully her! How very much we gain from reading poems/words from Mary Oliver. I can imagine her looking down at us thinking “I told you, don’t forget!” I grabbed a magpie picture today & thought that Mary’s poem told me to do that. Thanks for all!
Oh, Margaret, what a heartfelt and stunning tribute you’ve created. Every time I think I find “the” Mary Oliver poem that moves me the most, someone shares another. She offers such wisdom and insight into how to live well and meaningfully in our world. What an incredible body of work she created and how she enriched all of us! Your poem is so beautiful. “a resurrection of amazement” Ah.
Thanks so much for this beautiful tribute. Love the Oliver poems you shared as well as your own!
A beautiful, beautiful post. Yes, there has been a wake in the air like the geese. How appropriate. Thank you, Margaret. I didn’t discover Mary Oliver until my time in the kidlit Poetry Friday world. I barely know her and yet feel that I have been profoundly touched by her life and words.
Your last two stanzas…Nikki Grimes’ poem…my tears are flowing hard once more.
I have another friend who says that the poem “Wild Geese” saved her, Margaret. Mary Oliver had an ability to reach something deep within readers with her words and observations.
I think Mary Oliver proved in every poem the depth of her amazement with the natural world, which gave her the authority to offer comfort and listening, to command prayer, action, being. Your tribute ends perfectly, Margaret–let every day be the resurrection of amazement.
Thank you for sharing this lovely tribute to Mary Oliver. I’ve been amazed at how many of my friends (even ones I didn’t know read poetry) have been sharing her words. She did make poetry that welcomes many and invites us all to pay attention.
Gorgeous Mary Oliver poems Margaret, I love this line it’s so full of life and longing
“the world offers itself to your imagination” and that closing line of her second poem,
“So I just listened, my pen in the air.”
I so love to begin my morning with a poem looking through my window at nature…
And thanks also for Nikki Grimes’ poem–you put together a heartfelt tribute post.
Thank you! Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
wishing with Mary for a resurrection
of amazement.
What a beautiful ending to a heartfelt poem, Margaret. Thank you for sharing your thoughts in an introspective way and for bringing us all together in thought.