Forgive Me
by Mary Oliver
Angels are wonderful
but they are so,
well, aloof.
It’s what I sense in the mud
and the roots of the
trees, or the well, or the barn,
or the rock with
its citron map of lichen
that halts my feet and
makes my eyes flare,
feeling the presence of some
spirit, some small god,
who abides there.
If I were a perfect person,
I would be bowing
continuously.
I’m not, though I pause
wherever I feel this
holiness, which is why I’m often
so late coming
back from wherever I went.
Forgive me.”
by Mary Oliver
Angels are wonderful
but they are so,
well, aloof.
It’s what I sense in the mud
and the roots of the
trees, or the well, or the barn,
or the rock with
its citron map of lichen
that halts my feet and
makes my eyes flare,
feeling the presence of some
spirit, some small god,
who abides there.
If I were a perfect person,
I would be bowing
continuously.
I’m not, though I pause
wherever I feel this
holiness, which is why I’m often
so late coming
back from wherever I went.
Forgive me.”
| — | “Forgive Me" by Mary Oliver (found in her book "Blue Horses : Poems 2014) Copyright 2014 by Mary Oliver |
6 comments:
yes...
xoxo
Lynne, Yes indeed, xoxo
MO is something else!
From Ptown :-)
Kj, Yes she is, I love her so much.
xoxo
Mary Oliver is probably my favorite poet. I had never read this one, so thank you.
Sharmon, Mine too. xoxo
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