Monday, July 30, 2012

A Monday Morning Poem

"How I go to the woods"


Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don't really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree.  I have my way of
praying as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible.  I can sit
on top of the dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned.  I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.


If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.

~Mary Oliver~