Friday, March 28, 2014

How I Go To The Woods

How I Go to the Woods
by Mary Oliver

Ordinarily I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don't really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible, I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.




 

2 comments:

Katherine C. James said...

"…I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours."

Beautiful. I haven't read this Mary Oliver poem before. I love it.

Anonymous said...

Thank you for your Mary Oliver posts. She was my mother's favorite poet and was read at her funeral. I read e.e. cummings 'in just spring'....