The Owl Who Comes
By Mary Oliver
the owl who comes
through the dark
to sit
in the black boughs of the apple tree
and stare down
the hook of his beak,
dead silent,
and his eyes,
like two moons
in the distance,
soft and shining
under their heavy lashes—
like the most beautiful lie—
is thinking
of nothing
as he watches
and waits to see
what might appear,
briskly,
out of the seamless,
deep winter—
out of the teeming
world below—
and if i wish the owl luck,
and I do,
what am I wishing for that other
soft life,
climbing through the snow?
what we must do,
I suppose,
is to hope the world
keeps its balance;
what we are to do, however,
with our hearts
waiting and watching—truly
I do not know.
“Owl” Photograph © 2007 Mary Ludington
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I had the good fortune to hear Mary Oliver read her poetry Sunday night at the State Theater in Minneapolis. A friend and I treated another friend, Lisa, to this reading for her birthday. I gave this photograph to Lisa for her birthday last year. I took the photograph several years ago, again at Lisa’s birthday–she invited a raptor specialist to bring several birds to her home for a presentation. I found the negative while I was printing the dog book,… and craved a momentary change of pace.
Mary has also written many poems about her dog, Percy. “The Percy Poems.”
They are worth tracking down.
I found a great blog by two local writers who happened to see Mary Oliver at an event here last spring. QuoinMonkey captured the essence of seeing Mary in person and what she has to say about loving dogs, writing, poetry and being — on her blog, red Ravine.
Thanks, QuoinMonkey and ybonesy, for your thoughts and your lovely blog.