quiet season
by bam
it’s quiet season in my house. in my soul, actually.
it’s odd then, when i tiptoe outside in the dawn and hear the world achatter. the winged choristers — robin and sparrow and cardinal — are having at it, calling out from limb to bough to bush. staking turf. declaring the early hours of starting all over again, survival of the species, the No. 1 task on the vernal to-do list. it’s what happens when the globe tips toward the sun, the angle draws nearer, draws shorter; the light longer, not so thin anymore.
it happens to all of us, one season or another. we’re out of sync with the world beyond our window sill. i’m still deep in the burrows of winter. but the world wants to shake off its slumber, awaken.
i’m not ready yet.
i will be. i have no doubt.
but not yet.
now, i am curled under blankets, turning pages, soaking up the words of other quiet souls. and so, when i cracked open a book of poems the other day, i nearly dissolved into tears, into the mystery of grace, of feeling tapped on the wall of my heart, with sacred whisper.
i was turning slowly through the pages of mary oliver, my patron saint of poetry. i was inhaling her latest infusion of wisdom distilled, of heaven on earth, of sacred scripture rising up from out of the dawn, out of the trail through the woods where the poet keeps pace.
i read, among other words, these:
there are moments that cry out to be fulfilled.
like, telling someone you love them.
or giving your money away, all of it.
your heart is beating, isn’t it?
you’re not in chains, are you?
there is nothing more pathetic than caution
when headlong might save a life,
even, possibly, your own.
then i turned a few pages, and stumbled on this:
God, or the gods, are invisible, quite
understandable. But holiness is visible,
entirely.
i pulled out my pen. the sound of ink scratching along sheaf of paper, the only perceptible noise interrupting the season of silence.
and now i’ve shared my silence with you.
may your week be blessed. silent or not.
mary oliver’s latest slim volume of prayer poem is titled, felicity (penguin press, 2015). the words above, first, from the poem, “moments,” and finally, a few lines from “leaves and blossoms along the way.”
Wow!! So tender. I just returned from the silence of meditation, only to enter it again in reading this.
that makes me smile so broadly and so deeply…..
I’ve been noticing myself being pulled to the window more so lately. Like a hibernating animal when it’s slumber in the dark warmth of its cave is interrupted. Warm currents of air, a different kind of birdsong and longer daylight. Its a slow dance but I can feel a quickening and when it’s time I hope to not miss one single thing. Happy edge of spring everyone!
slow dance…quickening.
poetry here at the table. thank you, blessed ramona.
[…] Source: quiet season […]
Thank you
thank YOU, mdp.
“Holiness is visible, entirely.” Oh, how I love these words, and this truth. Mary Oliver’s poetic wizardry together with your yours makes for one long, contented sigh. Today is more beautiful, and all because of you… Thank you for this exquisite post. xoxo
thank you, my beautiful amy, for meeting me on the landscape of quiet…..a terrain stitched with silence and the sacred, twinned holinesses indeed.
I saw this just beyond your underline: “Some words will never leave God’s mouth no matter how hard you listen.”
Holy Toledo.
careful close reader. indeed. i saw those too. with mary O i inhale one line at a time. and it’s a feast that fills me for a while. we could read her all day……
dear dear bam. i stumbled upon mary oliver only recently in life and i cannot get enough of her beautiful words. i am inhaling her this year. love that you love her. XOXO
i have rather a stuffed book shelf of dear mary O. any time you want to read, just knock on the door. she’s always here. and i often am…..
I’m pretty sure you are the one who introduced me to Mary Oliver way back when. I too read Felicity and along with the words you underlined in your photo up above, my other favorite bit of wisdom was this:
only if there are angels in your head will you
ever, possibly, see one.
i LOVE LOVE LOVE that line. i saw it too……so many lines. so much packed into one little volume. oh my……..
Beautiful!