Words of WonderDaisies - Mary Oliver

It is possible, I suppose that sometime
we will learn everything
there is to learn: what the world is, for example,
and what it means. I think this as I am crossing
from one field to another, in summer, and the
mockingbird is mocking me, as one who either
knows enough already or knows enough to be
perfectly content not knowing. Song being born
of quest he knows this: he must turn silent
were he suddenly assaulted with answers. Instead
 
oh hear his wild, caustic, tender warbling ceaselessly
unanswered. At my feet the white-petalled daisies display
the small suns of their center piece, their — if you don’t
mind my saying so — their hearts. Of course
I could be wrong, perhaps their hearts are pale and
narrow and hidden in the roots. What do I know?
But this: it is heaven itself to take what is given,
to see what is plain; what the sun lights up willingly;
for example — I think this
as I reach down, not to pick but merely to touch —
the suitability of the field for the daisies, and the
daisies for the field.

by Mary Oliver

 

This poem moves me with the deep sense of peace that it exudes to me – no need to know any more than you do, taking what is given, seeing what is plain, and the complete belonging that speaks from the last sentence. It reminded me of how important that sense of belonging is: ‘the suitability of the field for the daisies, and the daisies for the field’. What would it be to go through life like that? During recent blissful days of roaming our nearest nature space with my son Finbar (which is a truly gorgeous place with a rocky hill for clambering on, a little river for building dams, some gorgeous old trees and big field for having adventures in) it’s felt a bit like that, this sweet uncomplicated but rich sense of things being exactly right in that moment.

There is a Dutch poem* which I have loved since I was a teenager and a sentence of that often comes back to me on a day with Finbar. It roughly translates to something like ‘Happy I was, on that day, / no bad news from newspaper or city / could make me forget about that’. And that sentiment might be mostly true for me in the moment of adventuring with Finbar. But the latest events of police brutality and systemic oppression that Fay wrote about as well, highlight so starkly how the experience of the world as a welcoming safe place with the ‘suitable’ conditions for flourishing, is a privilege that is not the daily reality for many (as James Baldwin spoke about so powerfully, long before I was even born).

All the more precious to be reminded every day by the birds and the fields of the possibility of that natural state of being… and let’s work together to ensure that becomes true for all of us.

kristine

 

Wandeling naar Parfondeval
– Remco Campert

De wind wuift over mijn gezicht
schaduw van wat blad.

Het pad gaat hoger straks
de heuvel op, daarachter schuilt gevaar

of veiligheid? In elk geval
vervolg van weg, een bocht

en dan de trage afloop naar het dal
waar water smiespelt

om het badend gras. Gelukkig
was ik op die dag, geen kwaad

bericht in krant uit stad
kon maken dat ik dit vergat.

 

Photo by Vadim B from Pexels