Pondering Poetry


It doesn't have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, 

then patch

a few words together and don't try
to make them elaborate, this isn't
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.

by  ~Mary Oliver~

The Old Poets of China

Wherever I am, the world comes after me.
It offers me its busyness. It does not believe
that I do not want it. Now I understand
why the old poets of China went so far and high
into the mountains, then crept into the pale mist.

by ~Mary Oliver~
Today's pencil sketch
on corrugated cardboard.  Anything that accepts lead, or charcoal is fair game when the mood strikes.


Pattybelle said...

I had never heard of Mary Oliver! Thank you. She is wonderful.

barefoot muse said...

Thank you Pattybelle!