At Great Pond by Mary Oliver

 

At Great Pond                                            by Mary Oliver

At Great Pond
the sun, rising,
scrapes his orange breast
on the thick pines,
and down tumble
a few orange feathers into
the dark water.
On the far shore
a white bird is standing
like a white candle —
or a man, in the distance,
in the clasp of some meditation —
while all around me the lilies
are breaking open again
from the black cave
of the night.
Later, I will consider
what I have seen —
what it could signify —
what words of adoration I might
make of it, and to do this
I will go indoors to my desk —
I will sit in my chair —
I will look back
into the lost morning
in which I am moving, now,
like a swimmer,
so smoothly,
so peacefully,
I am almost the lily —
almost the bird vanishing over the water
on its sleeves of night.

~Mary Oliver

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3 thoughts on “At Great Pond by Mary Oliver

  1. Serendipity :-) I was just thinking about this when I read this poem because I’d been reading a BrainPickings article about her a few hours ago. I’d never heard of her before and I was curious. Thanks for sharing!!

    Liked by 1 person

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