Her words, this rain

“Last night
the rain
spoke to me
slowly, saying,
what joy
to come falling
out of the brisk cloud,
to be happy again
in a new way
on the earth!
That’s what it said
as it dropped,
smelling of iron,
and vanished
like a dream of the ocean
into the branches
and the grass below.
Then it was over.
The sky cleared.
I was standing
under a tree.
The tree was a tree
with happy leaves,
and I was myself,
and there were stars in the sky
that were also themselves
at the moment
at which moment
my right hand
was holding my left hand
which was holding the tree
which was filled with stars
and the soft rain –
imagine! imagine!
the long and wondrous journeys
still to be ours.”

― Mary Oliver

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2 thoughts on “Her words, this rain

  1. Mary Oliver has come across my life twice in the past few days. Your post today and a poem read at a memorial service I attended last Saturday. That tells me I need to pay attention and check out more of her work.

    • I Just love her work. Remind me to tell you about my trip to see her accept and award and read at Marquette University three years ago.

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