north fork, october 


If you’re John Muir you want trees to live among.
If you’re Emily, a garden will do.
Try to find the right place for yourself.
If you can’t find it, at least dream of it.

When one is alone and lonely, the body
gladly lingers in the wind or the rain,
or splashes into the cold river, or
pushes through the ice-crusted snow.

Anything that touches.

God, or the gods, are invisible, quite
understandable. But holiness is visible,
entirely.

Some words will never leave God’s mouth,
no matter how hard you listen.

In all the works of Beethoven, you will
not find a single lie.

All important ideas must include the trees, the mountains, and the rivers.

To understand many things you must reach out
of your own condition.

For how many years did I wander slowly
through the forest. What wonder and
glory I would have missed had I ever been
in a hurry!

Beauty can both shout and whisper, and still
it explains nothing.

The point is, you’re you, and that’s for keeps.

Leaves and Blossoms Along the Way, Mary Oliver

 

giving thanks (these days)

We are about 3 months into Montana winter. There’s lots of snow on the ground, but the air is crisp and the sky is blue, so I’m feeling pretty good.

Lately, I’ve been thankful for quiet moments with my poetry books,

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For big sky ski days & the beauty that’s all around,

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For colors like this to start my day,

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And for new adventures, sore muscles & laughter with my coworkers.

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