The Swan
-- Mary Oliver




Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air -
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak?
Did you hear it, fluting and whistling
A shrill dark music - like the rain pelting the trees - like a waterfall
Knifing down the black ledges?
And did you see it, finally, just under the clouds -
A white cross Streaming across the sky, its feet
Like black leaves, its wings Like the stretching light of the river?
And did you feel it, in your heart, how it pertained to everything?
And have you too finally figured out what beauty is for?
And have you changed your life?

When I Am Among the Trees
-- Mary Oliver

When I am among the trees,
especially the willows and the honey locust,
equally the beech, the oaks and the pines,
they give off such hints of gladness,
I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

I am so distant from the hope of myself,
in which I have goodness, and discernment,
and never hurry through the world
but walk slowly, and bow often.

Around me the trees stir in their leaves
and call out, "Stay awhile."
The light flows from their branches.

And they call again, "It's simple," they say,
"and you too have come
into the world to do this, to go easy, to be filled
with light, and to shine."

When I recollect the
treasure of friendship
that has been bestowed
upon me I withdraw all
charges against life.
If much has been denied me,
much, very much has
been given.
So long as the memory
of certain beloved friends
lives in my heart I shall
say that life is good. ---Helen Keller

Thank you for all the lovely comments. Thank you very much for your time, for allowing me to be a part of your day. And most of all…Thank you for the Friendship. Shared moments are never forgotten. Thanks for everything my dearest friends. God Bless. Hugs and Kisses.

Quite Friend
Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus, Part Two, XXIX
(translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy)


Quiet friend who has come so far,
feel how your breathing makes more space around you.
Let this darkness be the bell tower
and you the bell. As you ring,

what batters you becomes your strength.
Move back and forth into the change.
What is it like, such intensity of pain?
If the drink is bitter, turn yourself into wine.





In this uncontainable night,
be the mystery at the crossroads of your senses,
the meaning discovered there.

And if the world has ceased to hear you,
say to the silent earth: I flow.
To the rushing water speak: I am.


I hope you are having a beautiful weekend.
Doing what brings you joy.

a FRIEND is someone who knows
the song in your heart . . .
and sings it back when you have
forgotten how it goes. — Unknown

After the Rain
Penelope Barnes Thompson

I look out on my patio after a soft rain.
The birds won't stop singing.
The geraniums are an impossible pink.
I want to swallow them, whole.

Every flower has a shine,
like a woman who has just been loved.
Her body glistens. She struts when she walks,
has time to be generous,
to spread that glow around a little.