Thursday, November 12, 2020

trust


by Shannondoah


i trust

in my

faith

to 

follow

the

compass

of

our 

divinity


the stars

pause

and silence 

speaks

nothing


all that

is

left

is the sound

of our

heartsong

 

goodness




by Mary Oliver

'Of Goodness'


How good 

that the clouds travel, as they do, 

like the long dresses of the angels

of our imagination,


or gather in storm masses, then break,

with their gifts of replenishment,

and how good

that the trees shelter the patient birds


in their thick leaves,

and how good that in the field

the next morning

red bird frolics again, his throat full of song,


and how good

that the dark ponds, refreshed,

are holding the white cups of the lilies

so that each is an eye that can look upward,


and how good that the little blue-winged teal

comes paddling among them, as cheerful as ever,


and so on, and so on.