Monday, March 5, 2012

A Poem for Monday

The Winter Wood Arrives

I think
   I could have
      built a little house
         to live in

with the single cord
   half seasoned, half not--
      trucked into the
          driveway and

tumbled down. But instead
    friends came
       and together we stacked it
           for the long, cold days

that are--
    maybe the only sure thing in the world--
        coming soon.
            How to keep warm

is always a problem,
     isn't it?
        Of course, there's love.
            And there's prayer.

I don't belittle them,
     and they have warmed me, 
         but differently, 
             from the heart outwards.   

Imagine
    what swirls of frost will cling
        to the windows, what white lawns
            I will look out on

as I rise from morning prayers,
      as I remember love, that leaves yet never leaves,
          as I go out into the yard,
             and bring the wood in

with struggling steps,
     with struggling thoughts, 
          bundle by bundle,
             to be burned.

Mary Oliver    

2 comments:

KenAnselment said...

Darn you, Blogger, for not having a "like" thumbs-up icon for me to acknowledge lazily my affinity for this posting by Jim.

Jim McDermott, S.J. said...

:) I feel your thumb.