A Poem For Mary Oliver/ Get Well Soon
This cold day wind swings
the bird nest pocketed in
a half cut maple limb. Two years
past, a storm of wind and
lightning made that limb into
a bridge for squirrels and a home
for birds.
The long fingered end barely
holds, branch to limb. We all try
for solid, I guess, industriously
building beliefs on poor
assumptions, making faith
on the branches we can see.
Lives outside know the
brutality of natures’ quick
decisions and give fear
a place. A nest is gathered
sticks planted deliberately
in a lattice work of strength.
Shaken but holding in a bitter
wind and a balcony to see
the first unfurling of Spring
maple leaves. Maybe, I
can still learn to build beauty
and fear into a future I can hold.
Get well soon, Mary. You have inspired, encouraged and amazed me with your work.
Margot Storti-Marron