The Lilies Break Open Over the Dark Water

handmade greeting card, collage art

Inside

that mud-hive, that gas-sponge,

that reeking

leaf-yard, that rippling

·

dream-bowl, the leeches’

flecked and swirling

broth of life, as rich

as Babylon,

·

the fists crack

open and the wands

of the lilies

quicken, they rise

·

like pale poles

with their wrapped beaks of lace;

one day

they tear the surface,

·

the next they break open

over the dark water.

And there you are

on the shore,

·

fitful and thoughtful, trying

to attach them to an idea—

some news of your own life,

But the lilies

·

are slippery and wild—they are

devoid of meaning, they are

simply doing,

from the deepest

·

spurs of their being,

what they are impelled to do

every summer.

And so, dear sorrow, are you.

—Mary Oliver

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