by Pa Rock
Poetry Appreciator
Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Mary Oliver died this past week at the age of eighty-three. The prolific poet left behind a body of much-loved and memorable work including perhaps her two best known efforts: "Wild Geese" and "The Journey."
I have chosen to highlight "The Journey" as this week's poetry selection, It is an inspired piece showing an individual's awakening and transformation into a person with purpose, someone who will not be sidelined by the noise and confusion of the life that is happening along the edges. Mary Oliver obviously lived life as she wrote it.
Please enjoy "The Journey" and perhaps accept it as a bit of a personal challenge to the stubborn complacency and noise which tugs at the ankles of us all.
The Journey
by Mary Oliver
Poetry Appreciator
Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Mary Oliver died this past week at the age of eighty-three. The prolific poet left behind a body of much-loved and memorable work including perhaps her two best known efforts: "Wild Geese" and "The Journey."
I have chosen to highlight "The Journey" as this week's poetry selection, It is an inspired piece showing an individual's awakening and transformation into a person with purpose, someone who will not be sidelined by the noise and confusion of the life that is happening along the edges. Mary Oliver obviously lived life as she wrote it.
Please enjoy "The Journey" and perhaps accept it as a bit of a personal challenge to the stubborn complacency and noise which tugs at the ankles of us all.
The Journey
by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
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what you had to do, and began,
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though the voices around you
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kept shouting
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their bad advice --
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though the whole house
|
began to tremble
|
and you felt the old tug
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at your ankles.
|
"Mend my life!"
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each voice cried.
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But you didn't stop.
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You knew what you had to do,
|
though the wind pried
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with its stiff fingers
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at the very foundations,
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though their melancholy
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was terrible.
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It was already late
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enough, and a wild night,
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and the road full of fallen
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branches and stones.
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But little by little,
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as you left their voice behind,
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the stars began to burn
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through the sheets of clouds,
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and there was a new voice
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which you slowly
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recognized as your own,
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that kept you company
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as you strode deeper and deeper
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into the world,
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determined to do
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the only thing you could do --
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determined to save
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the only life that you could save.
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