August When the blackberries hangswollen in the woods, in the bramblesnobody owns, I spend all day among the highbranches, reachingmy ripped arms, thinking of nothing, crammingthe black honey of summerinto my mouth; all day my body accepts what it is. In the darkcreeks that run…
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Blossom by Mary Oliver In Aprilthe ponds openlike black blossoms,the moonswims in every one;there’s fireeverywhere: frogs shoutingtheir desire,their satisfaction. Whatwe know: that timechops at us all like an ironhoe, that deathis a state of paralysis. Whatwe long for: joybefore death, nightsin the swale – everything…
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“Mama, it all matters. You know what their favourite food,snacks and ice cream flavours are.You know how they like their veges and fruit cutand you make sure nothing touchesanything else on the plate. You can tell when they are grumpy that they just need a cuddle, some food…
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“I want to have kids and to be with the kids all the time and I want to be alone so that I can write and I want silence and peace and noise and chaos and I want to stop and rest and to keep…
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“I think when we get to heaven we are going to be shocked. Things we thought were so significant and big here will be small there. Things that seemed so insignificant here will actually be big there. I bet the things that made us feel…
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Hopeis the thing with feathers “Hope” is the thing with feathers –That perches in the soul –And sings the tune without the words –And never stops – at all – And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –And sore must be the storm…
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happy on purpose “Be happy on purpose. Look for the rainbow when it’s raining. The rainbow won’t take away the rain but it will remind you that there is still beauty in the storm. Find the hope even when it’s bleak. It might be hard…
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a moment for the roses
“June is a moment of roses. It will follow May and precede July, no matter what occurs through man’s folly and intemperate impatience.
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“In the spring,at the end of the day,you should smell like dirt. – Margaret Atwood .“Everything that slows us downand forces patience,everything that sets usback into the slow circlesof nature, is a help.Gardening isan instrument of grace. ” – May Sarton