Mary Oliver

A collection of poems explores the mysterious landscape of the human heart, describing the meaning and wonder of loving another person.

Felicity

“but let the heart still play its true part”

“August of another summer, and once again

			and the lilies again are spread across the water.

			I know now what they want is to touch each other.

			during which time I kept living my life.

			Like the heron, who can only croak, who wishes he could sing,

			A little thanks from every throat would be appropriate.

			This is how it has been, and this is how it is:

			All my life I have been able to feel happiness,

			and I am watching the lilies bow to each other,

			then slide on the wind and the tug of desire,

			Soon now, I’ll turn and start for home.

			And who knows, maybe I’ll be singing.”

“Do you bow your head when you pray or do you look

			Take your choice, prayers fly from all directions.

			And don’t worry about what language you use,

			Even when the swans are flying north and making

			such a ruckus of noise, God is surely listening

			Rumi said, There is no proof of the soul.

			But isn’t the return of spring and how it

			springs up in our hearts a pretty good hint?”