The Nightmare Before Christmas--a Halloween film that's become a classic

I remember the first time I saw The Nightmare Before Christmas (The Nightmare Before Christmas (1993) - IMDb). It was in 1993 and we were still living in San Francisco, although our year there was coming to an end. The film was released in the USA on October 29, 1993, just in time for Halloween, and I saw it during the first week of November in a movie theater on the north side of Golden Gate Park. I remember that day very well, because I was the only one in the theater for the 3 pm afternoon showing, which they did not cancel, thankfully. I had left work early in order to see the film and it would have been disappointing not to have seen it. I left the theater thinking that I had seen an amazing film, and some years later I actually bought a video cassette of the film and watched it one or two more times before VHS films were phased out. I never purchased a DVD version of it; it was always on my to-do list but eventually streaming channels came along and I figured it would be possible to watch it on Netflix or HBO or the myriad of other streaming channels at some point. Sure enough, it's available on Disney+ (no surprise there since it's a Disney production) and Apple TV, among others. If you haven't seen it, I recommend it highly. The story of Jack Skellington the Pumpkin King, who decides that he can better his life by 'producing' Christmas one year instead of Halloween as usual, is a memorable one. The songs, the text, the creatures, the animation--all of them combine to make a film that is truly exceptional. As I said, at this point it's a classic.

Apart from It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, which is a wonderful Halloween classic, there aren't that many films that can be considered classic Halloween films for the entire family (meaning kids and their parents), not in the same way as for Christmas films. I know that there are a lot of Halloween horror films and that many of them are classics, but they are for adults and teenagers (the Halloween movie series comes to mind, and yes, they are creepy). 

There is something about seeing some movies on the big screen together with other people you know are fans. That was my experience today. Frogner Cinema in Oslo, which dates from the 1920s, set up two showings this weekend of The Nightmare Before Christmas. I went to today's 3 pm showing and the theater was almost filled, which was good to see. The majority of the attendees were teenagers and young adults, men and women alike. At the end of the film, people actually clapped, and that hasn't happened in ages in my experience. It was good to see because it gave me hope that there is still 'room' in modern society for movie theaters. I don't want them to disappear because there is nothing like seeing a movie for the first time (or even second and third times) in a dark movie theater. It's always a memorable experience, especially if the film is worth seeing. Many of my memories from youth are of times spent going to the movies. I thank Frogner Cinema for setting up these showings this weekend; it was a fun way to spend a couple of hours on a rainy Sunday afternoon. Just in time for Halloween......

The new Tappan Zee Bridge

For those of you who are wondering about the header picture of the dual-span cable-stayed twin bridge at the top of my blog, it is a photo I took of the new Tappan Zee bridge during my September visit to New York State. The new bridge opened for traffic in 2017; the old one was taken down due to its age and constant need for repairs. You can read more about it here: Tappan Zee Bridge (2017–present) - Wikipedia

The new bridge is lovely, and at night it is often lit up in different colors to celebrate or honor different events and organizations. I'm proud to say that it connects Tarrytown, my hometown on the east side of the Hudson River, with Nyack on the west side of the river. There is a pedestrian/bike lane on the bridge as well; if you'd like to walk across you can park your car on either side of the river. It's not something I've done as of yet, but it's on the list of things to do when I visit NY. 

One of Mary Oliver's most popular poems--The Summer Day

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

+ Mary Oliver

I first came across the last two lines of this poem before I knew that there was an entire poem in front of them. This poem is from Mary Oliver's House of Light collection. I've since purchased several volumes of her poetry and am savoring them as I read them. So much of what she writes about is a reminder for us to be truly mindful (before it became a trendy word), to be present in our own lives. She wants us to pay attention to our own life and the life around us--insects, birds, fish, small animals and large animals. In some of her other poems she even wonders about what stones feel and think. I love that. 

In this poem, her way of praying is to pay attention, to fall and kneel in the grass, to be idle and blessed, even though she isn't really sure what a prayer is. But what is prayer if not this? She cultivated the ability to 'wonder', to be surprised by and grateful for nature at every turn. 'Wonder' is defined as 'a feeling of amazement and admiration, caused by something beautiful, remarkable, or unfamiliar'. It is the wonder we experienced as children when we came across something beautiful or unfamiliar. I know I felt wonder when I as a child looked at the underside of fern fronds and saw spores, which are the ferns' method of reproduction, or when we went on a field trip and went looking for moss's reproductive structures. Or observed lichen growing on a rock. Or when we collected leaves from different trees in the autumn. Or when we saw snow-laden branches on a fir tree, how beautiful they looked, or ice formations in small brooks and even on the Hudson River. I knew wonder when my father and I sat at his desk in the evening with the small microscope he and my mother bought for me, and we looked at the already-prepared slides of diatoms (single-celled algae) that came with the microscope set. So amazing to see these magnified tiny organisms that make their home in sea water and fresh water. 

I think if we retain our ability to wonder throughout our lives, we will be able to tap into our 'child lives'. Not childish or silly lives, but rather lives that are open to the world. A kind of purity of soul, uncontaminated by the negativity and evil around us. Innocent as it were. It's not easy. But if we say no to cynicism and negativity, we leave more room for wonder. It's a good start. 

Just about as perfect a photo as you can get

This photograph of a hummingbird and four bees drinking water from a birdbath was taken by Toshiyasu Morita (Hummingbird & Bees — Toshiyasu Morita). It is an amazing photo, about as perfect a photo as you could ever hope to capture and actually get. I love it! As I've written about before in this blog, the honeybees in my garden love drinking water from the birdbath on a hot dry summer day, so this photo is a wonderful reminder of that. I've photographed them doing so, but not as up close as Morita managed. This photo makes my day!

https://images.app.goo.gl/trvB6YqZLnDwFdK2A

My gardening philosophy

I saw this today and had to laugh. This is my gardening philosophy exactly and my standard comment to my fellow gardeners in the allotment garden when we discuss what plants have grown and thrived and what plants haven't. The quote is by Janet Kilburn Phillips, an environmental educator, gardening expert and coach (Plant Harmony); I am not sure who took the photo. 

 

A good reminder for us all

Workplace culture

Every so often, when I meet friends for dinner, we inevitably end up talking about work and workplaces in general. Nearly every person I know who is around my age has a story or two to tell about unpleasant occurrences that they've experienced in their respective workplaces. That includes me too. We don't focus on just them--most of us also have good memories of our work projects/results as researchers, but the less than pleasant occurrences are used to illustrate some of the more negative aspects of Norwegian workplace culture, which I am not a huge fan of in general.

Academic research settings in the public sector, where most of my colleagues/friends and I have worked for the past thirty or more years, are strange work environments in which to find oneself, for Norwegians and non-Norwegians alike. I've always assumed that my Norwegian friends understood 'the rules' better than I did; I'm finding out that this is not the case, and that they were not necessarily treated any better (or worse) than I was when I was working. As always, how one was treated came down to politics--who you knew was more important than what you knew--at least if you wanted to get ahead. The Norwegians talk a good game about all employees being treated equally (the same) and that the same opportunities exist for all, but it's not true. Most academic research settings at present are quite hierarchical with many levels of leadership; this was not the case during the 1990s when I started working at my university hospital. At that time the organizational structure was flatter, with fewer levels of leadership. The disadvantages of a flat structure are that there are fewer possibilities to rise in the system (fewer management positions) and that the managers have a more intense workload compared to hierarchical organizations. The advantages of a flat structure (in my opinion) are that each employee has more autonomy and more freedom to be creative, to speak out, and to be heard. Nowadays there is too much micromanagement, too much administration, too much reporting to managers, too much detail-oriented nonsense. It's smothering, claustrophobic and ultimately fatal for innovation and creativity. There were more of the latter during the 1990s in my humble opinion. No matter. Organizational structures became very hierarchical during the early 2000s; in some departments at present, it is not unusual to be confronted with five or more levels of leadership. Dealing with your own leader/manager is one thing, but then he or she must deal with his or her manager who must deal with his or her manager above them in the system, and so forth. Suffice it to say that it is a cumbersome organizational structure with which to deal. I don't like it and didn't like it when I was working. Middle managers have little or no power to decide how something should go, and many of them become frustrated with such a system. Thus, the focus for many of them becomes micromanagement of their employees, many of whom are trying their best to do their best in a system that is not designed to reward them. Because even though one can 'aspire' to a higher position in a hierarchical organization, in practice there is little to no chance of being promoted or being considered for promotion based on your expertise, because it mostly comes down to 'who you know, not what you know'. Neither flat nor hierarchical organizational structures really reward their employees, at least not in huge public sector workplaces. It's stifling to work in them and to work for managers who can do little to help the departments they lead because they must always 'check' with the managers above them before they do anything. Who would want those positions? Apparently, there are those who do want them, because they are well-paid jobs. But what then happens is that a lot of money that could have been appropriated for solving the real problems that exist goes to pay the salaries of (in my opinion again) useless managers. Thus, the system is loaded with powerless managers with bloated salaries. 

If employees don't like this type of work environment, and most of my colleagues/friends and I do (did) not, employees have a real problem. Because their attempts at independent thinking, innovative thinking, critical thinking, creativity, and not wanting to work in team settings will be met with resistance from managers who expect compliance. Employees should not 'buck the system', should not butt heads (however respectfully) with managers, should not criticize, should not attempt to 'go rogue (be a loner)'. The strange thing is that some people do manage to navigate this system that is designed to keep employees down; some probably get ahead because they are well-liked even though they are resistant to the system. Others are given a helping hand by friends in high places (politics). Neither of these occurrences happens to most employees. Most employees who are competent and have a lot of expertise end up having to comply and to swallow rules they don't agree with in order to have a tolerable work environment within which to work. Those who are not compliant suffer the consequences, which boil down to being frozen out, ignored, overlooked for interesting projects, or criticized. Since employees can rarely be fired from a public sector workplace, managers hope that by creating an unpleasant work environment for resistant employees, that it will force them to seek work other places. For smart and competent employees who love their work but not the organizational system, this creates anxiety and problems with self-confidence. Which in turn leads to poorer production and lack of motivation/enthusiasm. This has happened to more people I know than I care to count, both non-Norwegian and Norwegian. 

Who benefits from such a system? Those at the top who enjoy perks and salaries that are largely unjustifiable, and those who have always been lazy, who have always not wanted to expend any more energy at work than they have to. The latter are true drains on the system. And unfortunately, many have learned to manipulate the system, especially when it comes to the aspect of not being able to fire them. These employees invest little energy in their jobs (and in many cases don't show up to work), and if they are criticized by their managers for not doing a good job or for not doing the job they were hired to do, they are allowed by the system to accuse those managers of harassment. The stigma of being unfairly accused of harassment sticks to a manager. Work environments are small enough so that word gets around that this or that person has been accused of harassing an employee. Unpleasant. What then follows is that the 'harassed' employee generally gets a new manager to report to, who has heard the story of what happened to the previous manager and decides that he or she will not make the same mistake as the previous manager. He or she leaves the 'harassed' employee alone to do what he or she wants; in that way, such an employee, often quite lazy and incompetent, remains on the payroll doing little to nothing in the way of work, because no one dares to cross such an employee. If you could fire such an employee from a public sector workplace, it would be a good thing. But it will never happen here. And from what I've seen of the system that does exist, such employees have a lot of power, whereas those who are truly harassed by their managers don't choose that route--to claim being harassed--because they would rather do their jobs well and not be a bother. Competent and hard-working employees often end up doing more than their share of work to compensate for the lack of work done by the lazy and incompetent employees. Unfortunately, a good number of managers leave the incompetent employees alone and instead focus on making life miserable for the competent and hard-working employees. Go figure. 

So again, I ask. What is there to miss about such workplaces? Just during the past two weeks, I've listened to colleagues/friends tell me about their experiences in their workplaces. Overall, they are leaving their jobs with their heads held high; they know they've done good jobs and are satisfied, even if they rarely hear that from their managers. They know they've done the best they could do and have invested a lot of time and energy in their jobs. They may have been treated poorly at times, but they've let those experiences go. Probably best for all concerned. But nonetheless, they do talk about the unpleasant times when we are together because they were hurt by them, as I was. They were blindsided by them. It's understandable. No one expects to be treated poorly when one does a good or excellent job, invests a lot of time and energy in interesting projects, shares ideas and demonstrates independent thinking. But that's exactly what happened to some of them, while they watched the lazy incompetent employees be treated fairly, and in some cases 'promoted'. It makes no sense. But in some way, perhaps it does. Lazy, incompetent employees are no real threat to management. They don't challenge their authority, they are compliant, they do what they are told. But they don't do the work required of them, and management can't do a thing about it, at least in public sector workplaces. Private sector workplaces are another story. Such employees eventually drain the life out of a department. The rest of the staff pick up the slack and will never be rewarded for it. That's how workplaces function here, at least in my experience during the last twenty years. When good employees reach the point where they understand that they could have invested half the amount of time and energy compared to what they actually invested for the same (or no) result, that's when they understand that it's time to leave their workplaces and a workplace culture that is mostly illogical. 

Souls that are lit (I love this imagery)

Those of you who read my blog know that I am a poetry lover. I appreciate poetry in all formats--rhymed, unrhymed, haiku, song lyrics, experimental--the list is endless. As long as the emotions expressed are pure, that's all that matters to me. And there is something about poetry that brings out pure, raw emotion, in a way that no other form of writing quite manages to do, in my humble opinion. 

This poem by Clarissa Pinkola Estés provides food for thought in an increasingly crazy world. I love the imagery--souls that are lit can light other souls that are struggling. Beautiful and kind thoughts......

You Were Made For This

Ours is not the task of fixing the 
entire world all at once, but of 
stretching out to mend the part 
of the world that is within our 
reach.

 
Any small, calm thing that one 
soul can do to help another soul, 
to assist some portion of this 
poor suffering world, will help 
immensely. 

It is not given to us to know 
which acts or by whom, will cause 
the critical mass to tip toward an 
enduring good. 

What is needed for dramatic 
change is an accumulation of 
acts, adding, adding to, adding 
more, continuing. 

We know that it does not take 
everyone on Earth to bring 
justice and peace, but only a 
small, determined group who will 
not give up during the first, 
second, or hundredth gale.

One of the most calming and 
powerful actions you can do to 
intervene in a stormy world is 
to stand up and show your soul. 
Soul on deck shines like gold in 
dark times. The light of the soul 
throws sparks, can send up 
flares, builds signal fires, causes 
proper matters to catch fire. 

To display the lantern of soul in 
shadowy times like these, to be 
fierce and to show mercy toward 
others; both are acts of immense 
bravery and greatest necessity.
Struggling souls catch light from 
other souls who are fully lit and 
willing to show it. If you would 
help to calm the tumult, this is 
one of the strongest things you 
can do.

There will always be times when 
you feel discouraged. I too have 
felt despair many times in my life, 
but I do not keep a chair for it. 
I will not entertain it. It is not 
allowed to eat from my plate.
In that spirit, I hope you will 
write this on your wall: 
"When a great ship is in 
harbor and moored, 
it is safe, 
there can be no doubt. 
But that is not what 
great ships are built for."

🌊 Clarissa Pinkola Estés

And a poem, Out There Alone, from my upcoming collection

Out there alone

 

There you were, little baby gull
Early evening, in the middle of the busy street
Lit by street lamps
Standing alone
Watching the cars pass you by
Buses too
We stopped to watch you
Hoping that no car would hit you.
 
A predicament
I wonder what you thought
Out there alone
Without your mother.
Did you lose her
Or she you?
You were stunned, disoriented
Had you already been grazed
By a car or scooter?
You bent down to peck at something on the pavement
And let it drop. Were you hungry?
 
I couldn’t let you
Stand alone, unsure
Of where to go, where to step
Every move fraught with peril
You would have been crushed
By a car, by a bus
Even though they tried
To steer clear of you.
It was dark.
 
I ask, what we are doing to nature,
To the wildlife that more and more
Seeks refuge in towns and cities
Gulls fly into the city now
Circling overhead, I watch you all
From my kitchen window
You learn our ways
But they are not your ways
 
You eat our food
But it is not your food.
Your food belongs to the sea and its bounty
You belong there too
Had it not been for your being a wild bird
I would have scooped you up in my arms
And taken you home and cared for you
In case you were sick
 
As it was, I could not leave you
To fend for yourself
Watching you commit a form of suicide.
Would you choose that, would you even know
That you were doing so?
 
I walked into the lamp-lit street
To meet you, no oncoming cars to stop me
I thought I might have to gather you in my arms
But no, it was enough that I talked to you
And told you to leave the street
You walked in front of me to the curb
And then hopped up onto the sidewalk
And walked away up along the hilly side street.
 
But you did not fly away
You were not afraid of cars, nor of me
As I clapped my hands and talked to you
So that you would choose life
And not death
On a dark city street.
You should have been afraid.
I would not have hurt you for the world
But cars and buses behave otherwise
You trust, but trust will be your downfall.

Copyright 2022 Paula Mary De Angelis 

All rights reserved 

Two good poems by Charles Bukowski

they are everywhere

the tragedy-sniffers are all
about.
they get up in the morning
and begin to find things
wrong
and they fling themselves
into a rage about
it,
a rage that lasts until
bedtime,
where even there
they twist in their
insomnia,
not able to rid their
mind
of the petty obstacles
they have
encountered.
they feel set against,
it's a plot.
and by being constantly
angry they feel that
they are constantly
right.
you see them in traffic
honking wildly
at the slightest
infraction,
cursing,
spewing their
invectives.
you feel them
in lines
at banks
at supermarkets
at movies,
they are pressing
at your back
walking on your
heels,
they are impatient to
a fury.
they are everywhere
and into
everything,
these violently
unhappy
souls.
actually they are
frightened,
never wanting to be
wrong
they lash out
incessantly...
it is a malady
an illness of
that
breed.

the first one
I saw like that
was my
father
and since then
I have seen a
thousand
fathers,
ten thousand
fathers
wasting their lives
in hatred,
tossing their lives
into the
cesspool
and
ranting
on.

------------------------

poetry

it

takes

a lot of

desperation

dissatisfaction

and

disillusion

to

write

a

few

good

poems.

it's not

for

everybody

either to

write

it

or even to

read

it.

Pat Metheny - You Are (Official Audio)

I bought Pat Metheny's album From This Place in 2020, during the pandemic. I didn't begin to really listen to it until yesterday; listening to it made me realize why I've loved Pat Metheny's music for the past forty years. There are many songs that stand out on the album, but this one, this one, brought me into a world where my brother was still alive, and we were listening to it together. He was a fan too and we went to Pat Metheny concerts several times during the mid-1980s. I haven't been able to cry since he died in 2015, but last night when I went to bed, I lay awake and listened to this song over and over. I don't think I've cried so much in years. It seemed like the emotions came out of nowhere, but of course they didn't. They've been welling up inside me for years and I only needed the right trigger. Because I've wanted to cry and simply couldn't these past seven years. Perhaps another trigger was eating dinner with two friends who asked me about my niece and nephew (his children) and how they're doing. I think of my brother often; we were good friends and even though our lives went in different directions when we both married, we had a bond that couldn't be broken. I don't pretend to understand what God wants of us, why there is so much pain and suffering in the world, personal and otherwise. All I know is that they exist and sometimes it feels as though we're being torn apart emotionally. I'm grateful and always will be for my memories of my brother and for this song that managed to do something that nothing else has for the past seven years--put me in touch with him and the feelings that I've been suppressing for years (why I've done so, I've no idea). 

One of Many--my poem from Parables & Voices

Apropos my last post about doubt--I wrote this poem many years ago. The italicized paragraph describes a woman who has 'chosen' not to pursue her dreams because the man she is with cannot keep pace with her and is angry about that. My guess is that there are many women who do this to keep the men in their lives placated.  

One of Many (Portrait of a Lady) (apologies to Henry James)

 

In some future time she knew
In that way that only women can know
That regret would exact its pound of flesh
For all the choices cast aside, for all the roads not taken.
 
For there were so many roads down which
If she had gone, that life may have been brighter.
Not tinged by so many shadows, not clouded
By the sufferings of others that she took upon herself.
 
In some future time she knew
That she would look back at life
As an old woman and wonder why it was
She chose a man ahead of most everything else.
 
Was it love or perhaps hate that tightened the bond?
Was it fear that made it impossible to live a life unfettered?
Fear of loss, fear of the other, fear of aloneness.
But what is fear if not lack of trust (in oneself and in others).
 
The fierce desire to prove independence from others,
Has led to only this, that she cannot any longer
Act without him, cannot think, cannot be who it is she once was,
For better or for worse, without him looming there before her.
 
A kind of prison, forged by fear and lack of trust,
By uncertainty and a self-image which is negligible at best,
His and in the end it will be hers, chosen by her because it seemed
That if he could not advance then it was her duty to demote herself.
 
Once was pretty, once was lively, once was open.
Once was…..a long long time ago.
Now is diminished, now is careful, now is remote,
So as not to awaken the sleeping beast inside him.
 
For he smiles on the outside, but the inside
Is filled with hate for others and a desire
To be above them since he cannot control them.
He cannot be them, and she cannot be them, by extension.

(From Parables & Voices, copyright 2011, by Paula Mary De Angelis)

The dream killer

I saw this quote (by Suzy Kassem) recently online, and it struck a chord. How many of us never attempt to follow one of our dreams because doubt stops us? I'd wager there are many people whose dreams die in this fashion. Doubt/self-doubt is insidious; it may begin with a negative or critical comment from someone whose opinions we value. But from then on, the ever-present negative voice inside us does the rest, feeding the self-doubt until it dominates all the other feelings we have. 

Moving out against self-doubt is one of the most difficult things you'll ever do in life. But it's necessary. Better to take the plunge into the unknown and take the consequences than to never do so. Better to 'have loved and lost than never to have loved at all', as the old saying goes. Better to have tried and failed than to never have tried at all. It's too easy to convince ourselves that we won't be any good at this or that. 

But if you do overcome self-doubt and attempt to fulfill a dream or two, don't necessarily think that life will be easier. A new set of problems arises in the form of some few people who really don't want to see you succeed no matter what. They remain silent no matter what you do. They never comment one way or another. They are passive. They don't get excited for your small successes, or for a compliment that is given you. Their silence is deafening and tells you all you need to know. They are behaving in an envious and petty fashion. Many people who are trying to realize a goal get stuck here too; they don't want to 'offend' those people by not staying in their place, under the radar. As I wrote in a poem a long time ago, 'if he could not advance, then it was her duty to demote herself'. That is what it can feel like. 

So, here's to all the people who try to conquer their self-doubt in order to realize a dream. Cheers. 

Minnie Riperton- Inside My Love

I stumbled on this song when I was listening to the Jackie Brown film soundtrack. It's a beautiful and sensual love song with fairly explicit lyrics (amazingly allowed in 1975), and what a song it is, sung by an incredible singer. Minnie Riperton's voice lifts it into the ether; it's not hard to imagine her and her husband Richard Rudolph writing it together when they were first in love. I love it. 

Inside My Love

Two people, just meeting, barely touching each other
Two spirits, greeting, tryna carry each further
You are one, and I am another
We should be, one inside each other

You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love
You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love

My love, my love, my love
My love, my love, my love

Two strangers, not strangers
Only lacking the knowing
So willing, feeling
Infinite growing
While we're here, the whole world is turning
We should be, one, fulfilling the yearning

You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love
You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love
You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love

Say that you'll ride, inside this love with me
Come ride, inside this love with me

You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love
You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love

You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love
You can see inside me, will you come inside me
Do you wanna ride, inside my love

Source: LyricFind

Songwriters: Leon Ware / Minnie Riperton / Richard Rudolph

Inside My Love lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Four beautiful poems by Mary Oliver

How did I not discover Mary Oliver sooner? Well, no matter. I have discovered her now and am immersing myself in the beauty of her poetry. Most of what she writes about resonates with me. The last poem I've included here, Hum, is about bees, and for those of you who follow my blog postings about my garden, you know that I too have written about the bees, those marvelous little creatures that keep it all going. 

Why I Wake Early

Hello, sun in my face.
Hello, you who made the morning
and spread it over the fields
and into the faces of the tulips
and the nodding morning glories,
and into the windows of, even, the
miserable and the crotchety –
best preacher that ever was,
dear star, that just happens
to be where you are in the universe
to keep us from ever-darkness,
to ease us with warm touching,
to hold us in the great hands of light –
good morning, good morning, good morning.
Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness.

------------------------------------------------

Song for Autumn

In the deep fall
don’t you imagine the leaves think how
comfortable it will be to touch
the earth instead of the
nothingness of air and the endless
freshets of wind? And don’t you think
the trees themselves, especially those with mossy,
warm caves, begin to think
of the birds that will come – six, a dozen – to sleep
inside their bodies? And don’t you hear
the goldenrod whispering goodbye,
the everlasting being crowned with the first
tuffets of snow? The pond
vanishes, and the white field over which
the fox runs so quickly brings out
its blue shadows. And the wind pumps its
bellows. And at evening especially,
the piled firewood shifts a little,
longing to be on its way.

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Lead

Here is a story

to break your heart.

Are you willing?

This winter

the loons came to our harbor

and died, one by one,

of nothing we could see.

A friend told me

of one on the shore

that lifted its head and opened

the elegant beak and cried out

in the long, sweet savoring of its life

which, if you have heard it,

you know is a sacred thing.,

and for which, if you have not heard it,

you had better hurry to where

they still sing.

And, believe me, tell no one

just where that is.

The next morning

this loon, speckled

and iridescent and with a plan

to fly home

to some hidden lake,

was dead on the shore.

I tell you this

to break your heart,

by which I mean only

that it break open and never close again

to the rest of the world.

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Hum

What is this dark hum among the roses?

The bees have gone simple, sipping,

that’s all. What did you expect? Sophistication?

They’re small creatures and they are

filling their bodies with sweetness, how could they not

moan in happiness? The little

worker bee lives, I have read, about three weeks.

Is that long? Long enough, I suppose, to understand

that life is a blessing. I have found them-haven’t you?—

stopped in the very cups of the flowers, their wings

a little tattered-so much flying about, to the hive,

then out into the world, then back, and perhaps dancing,

should the task be to be a scout-sweet, dancing bee.

I think there isn’t anything in this world I don’t

admire. If there is, I don’t know what it is. I

haven’t met it yet. Nor expect to. The bee is small,

and since I wear glasses, so I can see the traffic and

read books, I have to

take them off and bend close to study and

understand what is happening. It’s not hard, it’s in fact

as instructive as anything I have ever studied. Plus, too,

it’s love almost too fierce to endure, the bee

nuzzling like that into the blouse

of the rose. And the fragrance, and the honey, and of course

the sun, the purely pure sun, shining, all the while, over

all of us.