“In Blackwater Woods” by Mary Oliver
Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars of light, are giving off the rich fragrance of cinnamon and fulfillment, the long tapers…
Continue reading →Look, the trees are turning their own bodies into pillars of light, are giving off the rich fragrance of cinnamon and fulfillment, the long tapers…
Continue reading →Epitaph When I die Give what’s left of me away To children And old men that wait to die. And if you need to cry,…
Continue reading →You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You…
Continue reading →Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt,…
Continue reading →She came among us like a wild creature fresh from the forest, wearing a tunic of green, wreath of flowers in her hair. Orpheus returned,…
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