Nature Poems: “Both worlds”

pexels-photo-655217

Both worlds

 

Forever busy, it seems,
with words,
finally
I put the pen down

and crumple
most of the sheets
and leave one or two,
sometimes a few,

for the next morning.
Day after day –
year after year –
it has gone on this way,

I rise from the chair,
I put on my jacket
and leave the house
for that other world –

the first one,
the holy one –
where the trees say
nothing the toad says

nothing the dirt
says nothing and yet
what has always happened
keeps happening:

the trees flourish,
the toad leaps,
and out of the silent dirt
the blood – red roses rise.

Mary Oliver

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