Heavy
by Mary Oliver
That time
I thought I could not
go any closer to grief
without dying
I went closer,
and I did not die.
Surely God
had his hand in this,
as well as friends.
Still, I was bent,
and my laughter,
as the poet said,
was nowhere to be found.
Then said my friend Daniel,
(brave even among lions),
“It’s not the weight you carry
but how you carry it –
books, bricks, grief –
it’s all in the way
you embrace it, balance it, carry it
when you cannot, and would not,
put it down.”
So I went practicing.
Have you noticed?
Have you heard
the laughter
that comes, now and again,
out of my startled mouth?
How I linger
to admire, admire, admire
the things of this world
that are kind, and maybe
also troubled –
roses in the wind,
the sea geese on the steep waves,
a love
to which there is no reply?
— “Heavy” by Mary Oliver from Thirst.
9 Comments
Leave a commentLove this and we both understand how hard it is to lose our moms. I call my mother’s name at least once a day. I also hear her voice in my head. So much love to you as you walk this path.
I just discovered this poet and absolutely loved this one. Some days the load is lighter. Thanks for always being there.
Beautiful. Funny, I was driving somewhere, on this trip, and said aloud, “Mom, I miss you.” And that surprised me so much as I hadn’t been thinking about her, not that I knew, anyway. I guess we just miss them all the time.
Last week I was talking to my husband about how the pandemic stole you and your mom’s last year together and how unfair that was. I think about your mom even though we never met. The power of blogging, I guess.
Thinking of you this week, especially, as you continue to grieve…
Sending much love your way. ❤️
Lovely!
Beth Ann, you and your family are in my prayers and heart this week. May God give you all the peace, comfort, and strength only HE can. <3
((sympathy hugs)) Still missing my mother, too.
Profound and perfect. Mary Oliver always says it right. Thanks.