Alexander Averin

Friday, 16 August 2013

Just a poem, a picture, a song.

Sleeping In The Forest


I thought the earth remembered me, she
took me back so tenderly, arranging
her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds. I slept
as never before, a stone
on the riverbed, nothing
between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated
light as moths among the branches
of the perfect trees. All night
I heard the small kingdoms breathing
around me, the insects, and the birds
who do their work in the darkness. All night
I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling
with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.
Mary Oliver


Pam said...

A wonderful poem by Mary Oliver and one of my favourites.
I used to sleep outside in one of the homes where we had a huge private backyard with a wonderful garden...under the stars with the cat! My family thought I was mad. My mother would say "Aren't you frightened?".
The only thing that would wake me up was when the wind picked up in the early hours of the morning, which relates to the final part of the poem. I really like this poem so much Cait!

Pam said...

...this was as an adult, not a child. Husband and daughter thought it all a bit peculiar - cat indifferent!

Nan said...

I am so not a camper, not one who sleeps outside. All I would think of is the bugs crawling over me, the ticks biting me, the bears walking by. I'm like the old Joni Mitchell song about being used to my clean white linens. :<))