Image: American Physical Therapy Association
HEAVY
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?
-Mary Oliver in the collection, Thirst
"A love to which there is no reply"
ReplyDeleteThis happens to so many of us. I guess life if all about how we "carry" our sorrows and heartaches. I have to say, without my faith, I wouldn't have carried them well..
I enjoyed this poem - thank you for posting.
ReplyDeleteIt is amazing how my shoulders seem lighter the moment that I walk into church. It's like God takes the backpack right off my shoulders.
Teacher
Such an achingly beautiful poignant poem. Look forward to more of Mary Oliver. With regard to your illustration of backpacks I just heard recently that some of them are now cutting off circulation they are so heavy. Very dangerous.
ReplyDelete