{"id":6896,"date":"2021-01-15T09:18:29","date_gmt":"2021-01-15T16:18:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/?p=6896"},"modified":"2021-01-15T09:18:29","modified_gmt":"2021-01-15T16:18:29","slug":"mary-oliver-in-blackwater-woods","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/2021\/01\/15\/mary-oliver-in-blackwater-woods\/","title":{"rendered":"Mary Oliver – In Blackwater Woods"},"content":{"rendered":"

In Blackwater Woods
\nby Mary Oliver<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

Look, the trees
\nare turning
\ntheir own bodies
\ninto pillars<\/p>\n

of light,
\nare giving off the rich
\nfragrance of cinnamon
\nand fulfillment,<\/p>\n

the long tapers
\nof cattails
\nare bursting and floating away over
\nthe blue shoulders<\/p>\n

of the ponds,
\nand every pond,
\nno matter what its
\nname is, is<\/p>\n

nameless now.
\nEvery year
\neverything
\nI have ever learned<\/p>\n

in my lifetime
\nleads back to this: the fires
\nand the black river of loss
\nwhose other side<\/p>\n

is salvation,
\nwhose meaning
\nnone of us will ever know.
\nTo live in this world<\/p>\n

you must be able
\nto do three things:
\nto love what is mortal;
\nto hold it<\/p>\n

against your bones knowing
\nyour own life depends on it;
\nand, when the time comes to let it go,
\nto let it go.<\/em><\/p>\n

<\/a> \u2014 from American Primitive<\/a>, by Mary Oliver<\/font><\/p>\n


\/ Image by Claudio<\/a> \/<\/em><\/font><\/p>\n

This is one of my favorite poems by Mary Oliver. It speaks to so many levels of the human experience. <\/p>\n

Look, the trees
\nare turning
\ntheir own bodies
\ninto pillars<\/p>\n

of light\u2026<\/i><\/p>\n

Those opening lines draw me in every time I read them. They remind me that nature, too, is a heavenly realm. But there is also the beginning hint of loss here, something evanescent and fleeting. It is as if these trees, in their glow, are fading from the physical world, receding from us. It is a lovely, melancholy sort of transcendence.<\/p>\n

Lines in this poem also suggest to me, at times, formless awareness:<\/p>\n

and every pond,
\nno matter what its
\nname is, is<\/p>\n

nameless now.<\/i><\/p>\n

Notice the intentional ambiguity of that final line break above. She could be saying that the ponds are now nameless, or that they are nameless Now, nameless Presence. Contemplating that double meaning can throw the mind into meditation.<\/p>\n

She uses a similar line break immediately preceding that: \u201cname is, is\u201d. The break forces us unconsciously to think of how no matter what a place (or person) is named, it IS. It\u2019s existence is undeniable, not somehow dependent on human definitions or categories or names. The line break tricks the mind into contemplating the relationship between pure being and our mental categorization of existence.<\/p>\n

But the part of the poem that touches me most is the courageous willingness to embrace both connection and loss:<\/p>\n

To live in this world<\/p>\n

you must be able
\nto do three things:
\nto love what is mortal;
\nto hold it<\/p>\n

against your bones knowing
\nyour own life depends on it;
\nand, when the time comes to let it go,
\nto let it go.<\/i><\/p>\n


\n

<\/p>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/a>Recommended Books: Mary Oliver<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n\n

<\/p>\n

\n\n\n
<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/a><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
New and Selected Poems<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nWhy I Wake Early<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nDream Work<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nHouse of Light<\/a><\/small><\/td>\nThirst: Poems<\/a><\/small><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n
More Books >><\/a><\/i><\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/center>
\n<\/p>\n\n\n
\n\"Mary<\/a>\n<\/td>\n\nMary Oliver<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

US (1935 \u2013 2019) Timeline<\/a>
\nSecular or Eclectic<\/a><\/a>
\n<\/a><\/a><\/em>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n

<\/p>\n

Mary Oliver was born in Cleveland, Ohio in 1935.<\/p>\n

As a young writer, Mary Oliver was influenced by Edna St. Vincent Millay and, in fact, as a teenager briefly lived in the home of the recently deceased Millay, helping to organize Millay\u2019s papers.<\/p>\n

Mary Oliver attended college at Ohio State University, and later at Vassar College.<\/p>\n

Mary Oliver\u2019s poetry is deeply aware of the natural world, particularly the birds and trees and ponds of her adopted state of Massachusetts.<\/p>\n

Her collection of poetry \u201cAmerican Primitive\u201d won the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1984.<\/p>\n

More poetry by Mary Oliver<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

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 of cattails are bursting and floating away over the blue shoulders of the ponds, and every pond, no matter what its name is, is […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[2394,60,93,1490,921],"class_list":["post-6896","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poetry","tag-in-blackwater-woods","tag-light","tag-mary-oliver","tag-nameless","tag-trees"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6896","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=6896"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6896\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":6897,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6896\/revisions\/6897"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=6896"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=6896"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.poetry-chaikhana.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=6896"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}