Mary Oliver’s Poems

Mary Oliver’s poems are among my very favorite poems. I think I have most of her poetry books. Among them are The Leaf and the Cloud, American Primitive, House of light and Why I Wake Up Early. I recently wrote a list of reasons of why I wake up early which I cannot say is poetry but interesting and a learning experience for me about myself. People would ask me why I was such an early riser; I get up early even when I am on vacation and now in my retirement. It is habit I guess and I am definitely one of those creatures of habit. But After reading Mary Oliver’s poem Why I Wake up Early, I decided to write down the reasons or excuses I had for waking early. I wont bore you with the details but I will share her poem.

Why I wake up Early by Mary Oliver

Hello, sun in my face.

Hello, you who make the morning

and spread it over the fields

and into the faces of the tulips

and the nodding morning glories,

and into the windows of, even, the

miserable and the crotchety—

best preacher that ever was.

dear star, that just happens

to be where you are in the universe

to keep us from ever-darkness,

to ease us with warm touching,

to hold us in the great hands of light —

good morning, good morning, good morning,

watch, now, how I start the day

in happiness, in kindness.

Please me let me know what you think.

Courtesy of Pixabay

Food for Thought

Design and Quote by Melba Christie (C) 2022

To all my Family and Friends. May you all have a blessed Easter. This Easter is even more significant to me. Bitter sweet in many ways as I continue to ask some profound questions.
“And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.” -Rainer Maria Rilke, poet

The Tree

No one tells a tree how it should grow;

or how to shade a lonely heart.

It spreads it branches naturally.

It teaches us about eternal love;

and houses the mourning dove,

It lets the sun shine through

brilliantly from the heavens above.

The tree I planted so long ago

has seen me sobbing all alone,

when I confided all my sorrow.

What comforts me a little

is that it will hopefully still be around

for many a tomorrow.

Someone else will look up to it in awe

and wonder who it was that foresaw

the beauty and peace it would bring,

and help a lonely soul to sing,

when blossoms bloom

in the early spring.

Courtesy of Pixabay

Needing to Connect

When will people realize

our need to connect to each other?

Many emotions are common to all of us

Even when we believe in something

or do not believe at all

we somehow cross paths.

We all have fears;

no matter how diverse they be,

a trembling sensation overwhelms us all

when life ceases to be.

Our narratives of joy,

love, anguish, and even hate unite us.

Pain and suffering in one way or another

visit us at some point.

But most common is our

need to breathe,

especially within our life’s context today.

Let’s face it,

we are united whether we like it or not.

Photo by Samuel Theo Manat Silitonga on


I do not know what destiny beholds

all I know is I am growing old.

The plan is one unique to me alone

Far away I see the engraved stone,

That will mark my journey with a beginning and end

but what really counts is what happens

in between the space marked by the dash.

The plan was sketched.

The dream was created;

although sometimes deferred.

Yet the butterfly lead the way one day.

What else is there to say?

My unique destiny

is a road with many stones.

A road on which

I must take each step alone.

Courtesy of Pixabay

The Voice of Their Eyes

I only know only two languages.

I don’t know the language of Ukraine.

But language is not needed

Their voices come through their eyes.

Their eyes have witnessed such atrocity.

All is so surreal to us.

Their eyes say, ”We are still here;

we hold only liberty and freedom dear.

The voice of their eyes is a timid sigh

yet full of hope and resolve.

The voice of their eyes

Tell us the truth;

they tell us their dreams will not be

destroyed by tanks.

Our eyes need to remain open,

if we cherish our own democracy.

Let the voice of our eyes

scream out solidarity.

The last word will be theirs

but not through the voice of their eyes.

Their last word will be a humble

and clear decree of victory

Screaming Hallelujah!

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Photo by Victor Katikov on

Poetry Quotes

“Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. But, of course those who have personality and emotions know what it means to want to escape from these things.”

—T. S. Eliot

“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.” —Robert Frost

A Poem A Day: Read a Poem to someone you love.

Here is a poem I love by Emily Dickinson.

It is not dying hurts us so, –

“Tis living hurts us more;

But dying is a different way,

A kind behind the door,-

The southern custom of the bird

that soon as frost are due

Adopts a better latitude.

We are the birds that stay,

The shiverers round farmers’ doors,

For whose reluctant crumb

We stipulate, till pitying snows

Persuade our feathers home.

Photo by Johannes Plenio on

Happy National Poetry Month

Every year the celebration of National Poetry Month becomes more meaningful to me. I focus on reading more poetry. I especially look for the poems written by new poets. I also buy a collection.My mantra has always been “Poetry is Life and Life is Poetry”. These past two years I have used poetry a lifeline. Poetry is what has kept me going as I tried to process the loss of my son.

As always I will post poems by my favorite poets. I will also introduce a few new poets. I invite you to post your favorites in the comments section.
Don’t forget to share a poem a day and “A Poem in Your Pocket Day” with family and friends.

”People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I do not think that is what we’re really seeking. I think what we are seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonance within our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive. That’s what it’s all finally about.” —Joseph Campbell

Have You Looked in The Mirror Lately?

Have you looked in the mirror lately?

Did your humanity reveal itself?

Did your consciousness awaken you?

Have you looked in the mirror lately?

Did you notice the circles around your eyes?

Did you look as weary as I feel by asking these questions?

I wonder about the people especially the tyrants of the world;

have they looked at themselves in the mirror?

I wonder if they see their humanity.

I wonder if they feel anything.

If you are human, you feel.

If you are human, you bleed.

If you are human, you fear hate and violence.

I wonder.

I wonder about who among the tyrants will be frightened with their own reflection.

I wonder.

I wonder.

I wonder.

On the Ukrainian Poets Who Lived and Died Under Soviet Suppression — Literary Hub

Numbers. At the beginning of the 1930s, there were 259 writers being actively published in the Soviet Union. At the end of the 1930s—36. How had 80 percent of writers disappeared? Seventeen were shot, eight committed suicide, seven died of natural causes, and 175 had been arrested and put into camps. Sixteen were missing. These…

On the Ukrainian Poets Who Lived and Died Under Soviet Suppression — Literary Hub
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