IN BLACKWATER WOODS by MARY OLIVER

 

IN BLACKWATER WOODS

by MARY OLIVER

 

Look,  the trees

are turning

their  own bodies

into pillars

 

of light,

are giving off the rich

fragrance  of cinnamon

and fulfillment,

 

the long  tapers

of cattails

are bursting and floating away  over

the blue shoulders

 

of the ponds,

and  every pond,

no  matter what its

name   is, is

 

nameless   now.

Every  year

everything

I have ever learned

in  my   lifetime

leads  back  to this: the fires

and   the black  river of loss

whose     other side

 

is  salvation,

whose meaning

none   of us will  ever   know.

To  live in this world

 

you   must   be able

to  do  three things:

to  love   what is mortal;

to  hold it

 

 

against    your bones  knowing

your  own  life depends     on it;

and,  when   the   time   comes to let it

go,

to  let it go.

 

 

 

The award-winning American poet Mary Oliver's (1935-2019) In Blackwater Woods' vividly describes a forest's luminous transformation. It invites us into its world with the simple invitation, 'Look', as it offers o contemplation on surrender. We have all endured losses. We have watched our lives as we knew them burn in the fire. When we are finally able to relinquish the worst of the suffering, we experience ()journey from grief to deliverance, from wood to pillars of light. To try to understand loss is to drive ourselves to the brink of madness. To accept it is salvation-but to achieve this we must be kind to ourselves as we practise the bittersweet art of letting go.