Inspiring Enchantment & Illumination with Tarot & Intuitive Guidance

Saturday Poetry

Mary Oliver

On winter’s margin, see the small birds now
With half-forged memories come flocking home

To gardens famous for their charity.

The green globe’s broken; vines like tangled veins

Hang at the entrance to the silent wood.

With half a loaf, I am the prince of crumbs;
By time snow’s down, the birds amassed will sing

Like children for their sire to walk abroad!

But what I love, is the gray stubborn hawk

Who floats alone beyond the frozen vines;

And what I dream of are the patient deer

Who stand on legs like reeds and drink the wind;-

They are what saves the world: who choose to grow

Thin to a starting point beyond this squalor.

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  • January 22, 2008, 8:22 am Anonymous


    I forgot to ask if you had a copy of the book I got you for Solstice. You probably did, but I picked it up when I was in CA. I saw it and it was for you.


  • January 26, 2008, 8:04 am Beth Owl's Daughter

    Dearest one!
    I keep forgetting to tell you how much I love it!!! I feel terrible that I am so late in thanking you, but by way of a slight offering of apology, I dedicate today’s poem to you.

    Love and so much gratitude, especially for how you get me,
    – Beth