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.   

    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    


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.