Devotions, p.1
Devotions, page 1
Select Titles Also by Mary Oliver
POETRY
American Primitive
Dream Work
New and Selected Poems: Volume One
White Pine
The Leaf and the Cloud
What Do We Know
Why I Wake Early
New and Selected Poems: Volume Two
Swan
A Thousand Mornings
Dog Songs
Blue Horses
Felicity
PROSE
Blue Pastures
Winter Hours
A Poetry Handbook
Upstream
PENGUIN PRESS
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Copyright © 2017 by Mary Oliver
Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.
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The author extends her gratitude to Beacon Press for permission to reprint many of her early works.
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Names: Oliver, Mary, 1935– author.
Title: Devotions : the selected poems of Mary Oliver / Mary Oliver.
Description: New York : Penguin Press, 2017.
Identifiers: LCCN 2017025254 (print) | LCCN 2017027796 (ebook) | ISBN 9780399563256 (ebook) | ISBN 9780399563249 (hardcover)
Subjects: | BISAC: POETRY / General. | POETRY / American / General.
Classification: LCC PS3565.L5 (ebook) | LCC PS3565.L5 A6 2017 (print) | DDC
811/.54—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017025254
Version_1
For Anne Taylor
CONTENTS
Select Titles Also by Mary Oliver
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
FROM Felicity
2015
I WAKE CLOSE TO MORNING
THIS MORNING
THE WORLD I LIVE IN
WHISTLING SWANS
STORAGE
FOR TOM SHAW S.S.J.E. (1945–2014)
I KNOW SOMEONE
THAT LITTLE BEAST
THE POND
I HAVE JUST SAID
THE GIFT
FROM Blue Horses
2014
AFTER READING LUCRETIUS, I GO TO THE POND
I DON’T WANT TO BE DEMURE OR RESPECTABLE
STEBBIN’S GULCH
FRANZ MARC’S BLUE HORSES
ON MEDITATING, SORT OF
LONELINESS
DO STONES FEEL?
DRIFTING
BLUEBERRIES
THE VULTURE’S WINGS
WHAT GORGEOUS THING
FROM Dog Songs
2013
THE STORM
PERCY (ONE)
LITTLE DOG’S RHAPSODY IN THE NIGHT (PERCY THREE)
PERCY (NINE)
BENJAMIN, WHO CAME FROM WHO KNOWS WHERE
THE DOG HAS RUN OFF AGAIN
BAZOUGEY
HER GRAVE
THE POETRY TEACHER
THE FIRST TIME PERCY CAME BACK
FROM A Thousand Mornings
2012
I GO DOWN TO THE SHORE
I HAPPENED TO BE STANDING
THREE THINGS TO REMEMBER
LINES WRITTEN IN THE DAYS OF GROWING DARKNESS
AN OLD STORY
THE INSTANT
TIDES
THE POET COMPARES HUMAN NATURE TO THE OCEAN FROM WHICH WE CAME
LIFE STORY
VARANASI
FROM Swan
2010
I WORRIED
I OWN A HOUSE
DON’T HESITATE
SWAN
PASSING THE UNWORKED FIELD
HOW I GO TO THE WOODS
ON THE BEACH
FROM Evidence
2009
VIOLETS
WE SHAKE WITH JOY
IT WAS EARLY
WITH THANKS TO THE FIELD SPARROW, WHOSE VOICE IS SO DELICATE AND HUMBLE
A LESSON FROM JAMES WRIGHT
ALMOST A CONVERSATION
TO BEGIN WITH, THE SWEET GRASS
EVIDENCE
PRAYER
MYSTERIES, YES
AT THE RIVER CLARION
FROM The Truro Bear and Other Adventures
2008
THE OTHER KINGDOMS
THE GIFT
COYOTE IN THE DARK, COYOTES REMEMBERED
FROM Red Bird
2008
NIGHT HERONS
MORNINGS AT BLACKWATER
THE ORCHARD
SOMETIMES
INVITATION
FROM THIS RIVER, WHEN I WAS A CHILD, I USED TO DRINK
WE SHOULD BE WELL PREPARED
MEADOWLARK SINGS AND I GREET HIM IN RETURN
OF THE EMPIRE
RED
NIGHT AND THE RIVER
SELF-PORTRAIT
WITH THE BLACKEST OF INKS
FROM Thirst
2006
WHEN I AM AMONG THE TREES
WHEN THE ROSES SPEAK, I PAY ATTENTION
SIX RECOGNITIONS OF THE LORD
GETHSEMANE
THE POET THINKS ABOUT THE DONKEY
PRAYING
DOESN’T EVERY POET WRITE A POEM ABOUT UNREQUITED LOVE?
ON THY WONDROUS WORKS I WILL MEDITATE (PSALM 145)
THE CHAT
THIRST
FROM New and Selected Poems: Volume Two
2005
HUM
LEAD
OXYGEN
WHITE HERON RISES OVER BLACKWATER
HONEY LOCUST
SONG FOR AUTUMN
FIREFLIES
THE POET WITH HIS FACE IN HIS HANDS
WILD, WILD
NORTH COUNTRY
TERNS
FROM Blue Iris
2004
JUST LYING ON THE GRASS AT BLACKWATER
SEA LEAVES
MORNING AT BLACKWATER
HOW WOULD YOU LIVE THEN?
HOW THE GRASS AND THE FLOWERS CAME TO EXIST, A GOD-TALE
FROM Why I Wake Early
2004
WHY I WAKE EARLY
SPRING AT BLACKWATER: I GO THROUGH THE LESSONS ALREADY LEARNED
MINDFUL
LINGERING IN HAPPINESS
DAISIES
GOLDENROD, LATE FALL
THE OLD POETS OF CHINA
LOGOS
SNOW GEESE
AT BLACK RIVER
BEANS
THE ARROWHEAD
WHERE DOES THE TEMPLE BEGIN, WHERE DOES IT END?
FROM Long Life
2004
JUST AS THE CALENDAR BEGAN TO SAY SUMMER
CAN YOU IMAGINE?
SOFTEST OF MORNINGS
CARRYING THE SNAKE TO THE GARDEN
FROM Owls and Other Fantasies
2003
THE DIPPER
SPRING
WHILE I AM WRITING A POEM TO CELEBRATE SUMMER, THE MEADOWLARK BEGINS TO SING
CATBIRD
BACKYARD
FROM What Do We Know?
2002
SUMMER POEM
THE LOON
WINTER AT HERRING COVE
MINK
BLUE IRIS
YOU ARE STANDING AT THE EDGE OF THE WOODS
THE ROSES
STONES
ONE HUNDRED WHITE-SIDED DOLPHINS ON A SUMMER DAY
FROM The Leaf and the Cloud
2000
FLARE
FROM THE BOOK OF TIME
FROM West Wind
1997
HAVE YOU EVER TRIED TO ENTER THE LONG BLACK BRANCHES
SEVEN WHITE BUTTERFLIES
AT ROUND POND
BLACK OAKS
AM I NOT AMONG THE EARLY RISERS
FOX
FROM THE POEM “WEST WIND”
FROM White Pine
1994
MAY
YES! NO!
IN POBIDDY, GEORGIA
PORCUPINE
WRENS
MOCKINGBIRDS
I FOUND A DEAD FOX
MORNING GLORIES
AUGUST
TOAD
I LOOKED UP
THE SEA MOUSE
FROM New and Selected Poems: Volume One
1992
THE SUN
GOLDENROD
WHEN DEATH COMES
WHELKS
GOLDFINCHES
POPPIES
WATER SNAKE
WHITE FLOWERS
PEONIES
THE EGRET
RICE
RAIN
PICKING BLUEBERRIES, AUSTERLITZ, NEW YORK, 1957
OCTOBER
FROM House of Light
1990
SOME QUESTIONS YOU MIGHT ASK
THE BUDDHA’S LAST INSTRUCTION
THE SUMMER DAY
SPRING
LITTLE OWL WHO LIVES IN THE ORCHARD
THE KOOKABURRAS
ROSES, LATE SUMMER
WHITE OWL FLIES INTO AND OUT OF THE FIELD
SINGAPORE
THE HERMIT CRAB
THE KINGFISHER
THE SWAN
TURTLE
THE LOON ON OAK-HEAD POND
FIVE A.M. IN THE PINEWOODS
SOME HERONS
FROM Dream Work
1986
ONE OR TWO THINGS
MORNING POEM
WILD GEESE
SHADOWS
THE JOURNEY
POEM
TWO KINDS OF DELIVERANCE
BLACK SNAKES
1945–1985: POEM FOR THE ANNIVERSARY
THE SUNFLOWERS
FROM American Primitive
1983
AUGUST
THE KITTEN
MOLES
CLAPP’S POND
FIRST SNOW
GHOSTS
SKUNK CABBAGE
THE SNAKES
WHITE NIGHT
THE FISH
HUMPBACKS
A MEETING
THE ROSES
BLACKBERRIES
TECUMSEH
IN BLACKWATER WOODS
FROM Three Rivers Poetry Journal 1980
AND “THREE POEMS FOR JAMES WRIGHT” 1982
AT BLACKWATER POND
THE RABBIT
THREE POEMS FOR JAMES WRIGHT
FROM Twelve Moons
1979
SLEEPING IN THE FOREST
SNAKES IN WINTER
MUSIC LESSONS
ENTERING THE KINGDOM
THE NIGHT TRAVELER
BEAVER MOON—THE SUICIDE OF A FRIEND
LAST DAYS
THE BLACK SNAKE
THE TRURO BEAR
MUSSELS
SNOW MOON—BLACK BEAR GIVES BIRTH
STRAWBERRY MOON
PINK MOON—THE POND
AUNT LEAF
FARM COUNTRY
THE LAMPS
FROM The River Styx, Ohio
1972
LEARNING ABOUT THE INDIANS
GOING TO WALDEN
NIGHT FLIGHT
FROM No Voyage and Other Poems
1963 and 1965
NO VOYAGE
JACK
BEYOND THE SNOW BELT
THE SWIMMING LESSON
ON WINTER’S MARGIN
THE RETURN
MORNING IN A NEW LAND
Acknowledgments
Index of Titles and First Lines
FROM
Felicity
2015
I WAKE CLOSE TO MORNING
Why do people keep asking to see
God’s identity papers
when the darkness opening into morning
is more than enough?
Certainly any god might turn away in disgust.
Think of Sheba approaching
the kingdom of Solomon.
Do you think she had to ask,
“Is this the place?”
THIS MORNING
This morning the redbirds’ eggs
have hatched and already the chicks
are chirping for food. They don’t
know where it’s coming from, they
just keep shouting, “More! More!”
As to anything else, they haven’t
had a single thought. Their eyes
haven’t yet opened, they know nothing
about the sky that’s waiting. Or
the thousands, the millions of trees.
They don’t even know they have wings.
And just like that, like a simple
neighborhood event, a miracle is
taking place.
THE WORLD I LIVE IN
I have refused to live
locked in the orderly house of
reasons and proofs.
The world I live in and believe in
is wider than that. And anyway,
what’s wrong with Maybe?
You wouldn’t believe what once or
twice I have seen. I’ll just
tell you this:
only if there are angels in your head will you
ever, possibly, see one.
WHISTLING SWANS
Do you bow your head when you pray or do you look
up into that blue space?
Take your choice, prayers fly from all directions.
And don’t worry about what language you use,
God no doubt understands them all.
Even when the swans are flying north and making
such a ruckus of noise, God is surely listening
and understanding.
Rumi said, There is no proof of the soul.
But isn’t the return of spring and how it
springs up in our hearts a pretty good hint?
Yes, I know, God’s silence never breaks, but is
that really a problem?
There are thousands of voices, after all.
And furthermore, don’t you imagine (I just suggest it)
that the swans know about as much as we do about
the whole business?
So listen to them and watch them, singing as they fly.
Take from it what you can.
STORAGE
When I moved from one house to another
there were many things I had no room
for. What does one do? I rented a storage
space. And filled it. Years passed.
Occasionally I went there and looked in,
but nothing happened, not a single
twinge of the heart.
As I grew older the things I cared
about grew fewer, but were more
important. So one day I undid the lock
and called the trash man. He took
everything.
I felt like the little donkey when
his burden is finally lifted. Things!
Burn them, burn them! Make a beautiful
fire! More room in your heart for love,
for the trees! For the birds who own
nothing—the reason they can fly.
FOR TOM SHAW S.S.J.E. (1945–2014)
Where has this cold come from?
“It comes from the death of your friend.”
Will I always, from now on, be this cold?
“No, it will diminish. But always
it will be with you.”
What is the reason for it?
“Wasn’t your friendship always as beautiful
as a flame?”
I KNOW SOMEONE
I know someone who kisses the way
a flower opens, but more rapidly.
Flowers are sweet. They have
short, beatific lives. They offer
much pleasure. There is
nothing in the world that can be said
against them.
Sad, isn’t it, that all they can kiss
is the air.
Yes, yes! We are the lucky ones.
THAT LITTLE BEAST
That pretty little beast, a poem,
has a mind of its own.
Sometimes I want it to crave apples
but it wants red meat.
Sometimes I want to walk peacefully
on the shore
and it wants to take off all its clothes
and dive in.
Sometimes I want to use small words
and make them important
and it starts shouting the dictionary,
the opportunities.
Sometimes I want to sum up and give thanks,
putting things in order
and it starts dancing around the room
on its four furry legs, laughing
and calling me outrageous.
But sometimes, when I’m thinking about you,
and no doubt smiling,
it sits down quietly, one paw under its chin,
and just listens.
THE POND
August of another summer, and once again
I am drinking the sun
and the lilies again are spread across the water.
