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poetry thursday

liz lamoreux

My readings of late, blogs and books, have had a theme. Recognizing your fears, recognizing the life you want to live, learning to let go of fear to begin to live that life. I have spent some time synthesizing my thoughts about all of this. But I am not ready to write them yet. Today, on Poetry Thursday, I will let the words of Mary Oliver add to this theme.

When Death Comes

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom; taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made my life something particular, and real.
I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

Mary Oliver (from the book New and Selected Poems)

If you are not yet a Poetry Thursday participant, and you would like to share a poem today, post one on your blog or share one here in the comments of this post. If you would like me to add you to the list of participants, please send me an email and I will add you to this list.

And if you feel moved, print out a poem you read today or find a favorite book of poetry, run a bath, and have a Poetry Reading in the bathtub. Just you, the words of another (or your own), and your voice vibrating around you.