Ode to Mary Oliver

Ode to Mary Oliver

How many hours
Do you
Or I

Not just
That we’ve
Tucked away
Like magpies
But how many
Do we have
In all our cosmic possession?

How many golden autumn evenings
Where the dusk rises 
blue and smokey
Against the gilt 
of the setting sun?

How many nights
Black with it’s liquid rain and worry

Up and down
Like fingers 
Over your fragile spine?

How many meals,
Eating at this scrubbed wooden table
With your children?
How many meals at the same wooden table 
with your parents?

How much time do we have, 
for business meetings,
Stop lights, 
Weeding the flower bed
and watching our children sleep? 

How many more moments do we have?
To look up
And feel the rain on our faces
Splashing like time across our laughing lips and closed tight lids?
To look into the person
You’ve sat next to
For the past twenty years
And have the courage
To look at them with fresh eyes 

And let that hit you
And let yourself love them
and new again

What if this
Is it?

What are you doing with your one wild and precious life?


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