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SLEEPING IN THE FOREST I thought the earth remembered me, she took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone on the riverbed, nothing between me and the white fire of the stars but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths among the branches of the perfect trees. All night I heard the small kingdoms breathing around me, the insects, and the birds who do their work in the darkness. All night I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had vanished at least a dozen times into something better. . . Sleeping In The Forest by Mary Oliver . |
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Ahhh........... Such a peaceful and accepting poem~~
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Ahhh........... Such a peaceful and accepting poem~~
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Lovely.
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There are still places where the small, still voices are heard. I have dedicated my life to appreciating, supporting and protecting those small, still voices, as have many others, including you, I think.......though many times it has been exhausting, frustrating and seemingly hopeless, we are still at it.......
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I like it! Thanks for sharing.
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