JOURNAL 8

 MARY OLIVER

Heron Rises from the Dark, Summer Pond

So heavy

is the long-necked, long-bodied heron,

always it is a surprise

when her smoke-colored wings

open

and she turns

from the thick water,

from the black sticks

of the summer pond,

and slowly

rises into the air

and is gone.

Then, not for the first or the last time,

I take the deep breath

of happiness, and I think

how unlikely it is

that death is a hole in the ground,

how improbable

that ascension is not possible,

though everything seems so inert, so nailed

back into itself—

the muskrat and his lumpy lodge,

the turtle,

the fallen gate.

And especially it is wonderful

that the summers are long

and the ponds so dark and so many,

and therefore it isn’t a miracle

but the common thing,

this decision,

this trailing of the long legs in the water,

this opening of the heavy body

into a new life: see how the sudden

gray-blue sheets of her wings

strive toward the wind; see how the clasp of nothing

takes her in.

“The Heron Rises from the Dark, Summer Pond” by Mary Oliver is a 9-stanza free verse poem.  The short stanzas not only look at times like flapping wings, but the way the connect offers sound the chance to fold in and out like the pumping flight of the heron (“how unlikely it is/ /that death is a hole in the ground,”).  The harmonic, subtle use of various poetic devices (repetition, rhyme, stresses and alliteration) offers a kind push through the poem, but also hints at the gentle wisdom she offers. (“from the thick water,/ from the black sticks”, “how improbable/ that ascension is not possible”, “the muskrat and his lumpy lodge,”)

HENRY DAVID THOREAU

Smoke

Light-winged Smoke, Icarian bird.

Melting thy pinions in thy upward flight,

Lark without song, and messenger of dawn,

Circling above the hamlets as they nest;

Or else, departing dream, and shadowdy form

Of midnight vision, gathering up thy skirts;

By night star-veiling, and by day

Darkening the light and blotting out the sun;

Go thou my incense upward from this hearth,

And ask the gods to pardon this clear flame.

These poems both offer serious consideration to nature as a portal that can connect us with the unseen greater power of this universe.  Oliver and Thoreau display skillful precision at attaining a faint, yet graceful image that leaves a lasting imprint on the mind.  Oliver’s tone and style is slightly more cherished personal feel.

The Power Above

 

uncovered

panic paralyzes one or two

but the rest quickly get to work grabbing what they can

most ants can carry one round, white globe

hauling it around and

down 

beneath the surface

the messages find their way

through twisting turns to echoing caverns

the      nest      has      been     compromised

one after one

they reappear,

or maybe it is just a devoted pair

take one more and disappear

their

size

I

will

never

be

but      I     see

how they must feel

as I stand on the precipice and look up

to the sky the trees unveiled

as the storm draws in I know I must go

to challenge the power

merely wastes my time

and endangers the life I know.

___

Oliver, Mary. “Heron Rises from the Dark, Summer Pond.” Wild Reckoning: An Anthology Provoked by Rachel

     Carson's Silent Spring. Ed. Burnside, John, Maurice Riordan. London: Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation, 2004.

     112. Print.

Thoreau, Henry D. Walden: Or, Life in the Woods : And, on the Duty of Civil Disobedience. New York: New

     American Library, 1960. Print.