Monday, March 12, 2012

three months and one day

That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying

I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,

as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,

was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel,
(brave even among lions),
"It's not the weight you carry

but how you carry it -
books, bricks, grief -
it's all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it

when you cannot, and would not,
put it down."
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?

Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?

How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe

also troubled -
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?

by Mary Oliver, stolen from Amanda

I just want to know, do we ever stop counting?


ellen said...

We never stop counting. We never stop loving. We never forget.

amanda said...

You know, I don't think so.

Sara said...


wildchild said...

i'm praying for you, sweetheart.

Kristen said...

I'm still counting too. I guess the counting continues, just the metrics change. Days to weeks to months to years....

wendy said...

I love that poem!! Saying that with smiles & tears! Luvs your way <3