Can You Imagine?

by Mary Oliver


Original Language English

For example, what the trees do
not only in lightning storms
or the watery dark of a summer's night
or under the white nets of winter
but now, and now, and now - whenever
we're not looking. Surely you can't imagine
they don't dance, from the root up, wishing
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly
more shade - surely you can't imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind,
and then only in its own mood, comes
to visit, surely you can't imagine
patience, and happiness, like that.

-- from Long Life: Essays and Other Writings, by Mary Oliver

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/ Image by Marco Arment /


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Commentary by Ivan M. Granger

From the towering redwoods and ancient yews, to the forgotten blades of grass beneath our feet, plants are our teachers.

I've often contemplated how the plant world embodies such pure life and beauty, without the constant anxiety to be somewhere else. Wherever it has purchase, a plant lives out its purpose with unrestrained green joy.

They find a patch of earth, a place of sun, and settle into the long rhythm of days and years, quietly becoming themselves.

surely you can't imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind


Perhaps we can imagine it. With the sweep of the wind and the turning of the year, perhaps we can even imagine they dance.

A bush upon a windswept bluff leans into the stream of air and itself becomes the fulfillment of the landscape. A sapling seeking sunlight beneath a canopy of elder trees reaches out for that golden touch and, over time, becomes the pathway of its own seeking.

surely you can't imagine
patience, and happiness, like that.


Perhaps we can.



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Can You Imagine?