As I became older in age I also became a huge fan of Mary Oliver. Her work is simple, but also very rich. I just wanted to write a post dedicated to her since she recently passed away. I have a few of her books, but one of my favorite poems in hers is called “The Journey,” which goes like this:
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice –
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do –
determined to save
the only life you could save.
I wrote a poem that is a spin off of that poem, but before I share it with you I wanted to explain more why she is one of my favorites. I love a lot of her poems, but she also paved the way for the next generation of writers and poets. She shares her wisdom and she makes me become a better poet. There are so many of her quotes that are quite amazing, but there is one or two that stick out to me. The first one is, “So tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one and precious life?” In that quote she asks us what we are going to do because we only have one life and we each have a different plan/path to follow. The second quote is, “For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.” In other words, poems are not just simply words, but they are something that is necessary and essential for everyone. They almost always bring some sense of hope. That is what I like about Mary Oliver. She is someone who provides that hope and fire. I love that her pieces focus on nature too.
So here is that poem that I wrote in tribute to Mary Oliver. It is also a poem I submitted for a competition on DUP and won runner-up for it. Wherever you are Mary Oliver, I hope you rest in peace. I strongly encourage all of my readers to read her work. I know that you will not regret it.
The Journey (After Mary Oliver)
The journey starts with one small step. It is one step into the world
Where the tides and waves all rush to meet at your feet as you walk
In the sand on the beach’s shoreline, following endless words curled
On forgotten pages. Above all the endless noise, chatter and the talk
Of those around you is where you begin to find your bearings. It is
When you see the stars and you are away from the advice of a hawk
You find your voice. You want someone else to come fix and un-fizz
Your life like the aftermath of a chaotic storm or glass of champagne,
But it starts within you. You pried and took the truth from her or his
Delicate fingers. They may blame it on the wind because with the rain
It knocks everything sideways and makes everything damp, but you
Have to do what you needed to do all along. The naked truth may stain
Their souls, making them yell why? But someday when the sky is blue
Again they will understand that it was all a part of the journey. It was
All a part to saving one life, which is only yours. It may echo through
The empty house that might tremble like an earthquake, but the buzz
Finally clears and you stand there with the answers that make sense.
It is like all the overgrowing weeds and the clouds that used to cause
Worry has disappeared into the surrounding atmosphere. The fence
That separates you from the rest of the world has crumbled into ash.
It is like life’s naysayers, worries and doubts are all in the past tense
Because what happened in the past has no place in the now. You dash
Into the pouring rain so you can feel alive and to hear something other
Than the voices that live in your head. There are days when you crash
And burn, but you still keep going on with one step at a time to another
Fork in the road. Where should you go? Whichever way gets you further.