Inspiring Enchantment & Illumination with Tarot & Intuitive Guidance

Saturday Poetry: Black Oaks

Enchanted Woods © Richie Dean
Black Oaks
Mary Oliver

Okay, not one can write a symphony, or a dictionary,

or even a letter to an old friend, full of remembrance
and comfort.

Not one can manage a single sound though the blue jays
carp and whistle all day in the branches, without

the push of the wind.

But to tell the truth after a while I’m pale with longing
for their thick bodies ruckled with lichen

and you can’t keep me from the woods, from the tonnage

of their shoulders, and their shining green hair.

Today is a day like any other: twenty-four hours, a
little sunshine, a little rain.

Listen, says ambition, nervously shifting her weight from
one boot to another — why don’t you get going?

For there I am, in the mossy shadows, under the trees.

And to tell the truth I don’t want to let go of the wrists
of idleness, I don’t want to sell my life for money,

I don’t even want to come in out of the rain.

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  • October 4, 2008, 8:06 am Donald Engstrom-Reese

    Wow! Thank you so much for posting this poem. Thank you. Thank you.

    May the Oak Siblings flourish for ever!

  • October 4, 2008, 8:22 am Beth Owl's Daughter

    You are so welcome, dearest Donald!