Tuesday, December 17, 2013

journal spread


Sleeping in the Forest


I thought the earth remembered me, she


took me back so tenderly, arranging her dark skirts, her pockets



full of lichens and seeds. I slept as never before, a stone



on the riverbed, nothing



between me and the white fire of the stars but my thoughts, and they floated




light as moths among the branches


of the perfect trees. All night




I heard the small kingdoms breathing


around me, the insects, and the birds




who do their work in the darkness. All night


I rose and fell, as if in water, grappling with a luminous doom. By morning I had 



vanished at least a dozen times



into something better. 



~~Mary Oliver


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