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Sara Joy Tiberio's avatar

Beautiful poem and contemplation on death. I also appreciate you writing on this subject and throwing out this prompt as I feel it's so important to explore and talk about. Also cool to see your response to these Mary Oliver poems.

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

I love how this poem turned toward death unexpectedly, that last line — “that is nothing but light — scalding, aortal light — in which we are washed and washed out of our bones” leaves me breathless. Love how she invites us into deep contemplation of life & death too. So nice to see you & hear your poetry last night! 💛

Sara Joy Tiberio's avatar

Likewise! You do such a great job of bringing your beautiful poems to life when you read them.

Sam Aureli's avatar

Lovely! I’m a big fan of Mary’s poetry, such that it has been an inspiration for many of my poems in On the Edge of Knowing

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

She is the Fairy Godmother of poetry isn’t she, guiding us all in life and in writing practice with her devotion to all living things.

Looking forward to reading your collection Sam and the poems she inspired! 🙏🏼

Poetry Tracks In the Snow's avatar

Ash, your poem is gorgeous; I loved it🩵🩵🩵

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

Thank you, Holly! So glad to know it spoke to you ☺️

Jenna Nicole Stevens's avatar

A beautiful piece 🤍 I’ve been through periods of grief twice in the last couple of months, and I found this very comforting.

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

I love to hear when the right poem lands in front of someone at the right time 🤍 I felt so held by this one too, such a beautiful meditation on death and afterlife.

PresentWordTravels-by Sammi 静辰's avatar

Thank you Ash, for sharing this beautifully inspiring poem by Mary Oliver — and for responding to it with such delightful and poetic attention! I love the prompt you offered too.

In response to your calling with good intention, I’d like to share a poem I wrote a while ago in this post, it's about death and becoming.

https://presentwordtravels.substack.com/p/the-dark-embrace

Kristen Warms's avatar

Sammi, this is STUNNING. There are so many lines, but this one made me stop in my tracks: "You are the unworded hymn

the night sings to the unborn".

PresentWordTravels-by Sammi 静辰's avatar

Thanks Kristen for your comment, which means a lot! :)

Bob Johnson's avatar

These are beautiful and extremely supportive

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

So glad that these poems comforted you, Bob!

Andrea 🌄's avatar

Thanks for sharing this beautiful piece! I look forward to trying my hand at the prompt!

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

Looking forward to reading what comes through for you!

Bethany J. Riddle's avatar

What a wonderful idea!

Laura Coleman's avatar

Thank you for this beautiful writing prompt from Mary Oliver. Here is my poem:

Maybe death isn’t darkness, after all,

for the great oak tree lays itself gracefully

down on the forest floor, offering its

decaying flesh to feed the sleeping

seeds. There is undeniable beauty in

this I thought, as I laid my beloved’s body

into a womb of midnight soil, witnessing

death transform into life. It is a remarkable

thing I think, to believe we are one thing,

this flesh and bones, and yet know we must be

something more, something uncontainable,

something so full of light, that when we are

done in this body, all we can do is take flight.

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

Beautiful poem, Laura! I love "womb of midnight soil" and that ending!!

Gayle Beavil, MA, BEd, CAPP 🇨🇦's avatar

To believe we are one thing and yet know we must be something more... I love this. So hopeful and emotional. makes me tear up!

Laura Catanzano's avatar

Maybe death isn't darkness,

after all, maybe it's apricity,

that first touch of light after

the winter's cold has seeped

you of warmth. When you stand

there in the freshly fallen snow,

after days of remarkable

greyness, and let your face turn

instinctively, toward the long lost

sun. Not an ending, but a

homecoming, not a farewell,

but a threshold.

And you know

at once, what you've long

forgotten, there never was

a thing to fear, that your soul

exists as then and now, as light

and dark and all this goodness.

Perfectly made of all this

nothing, and

made at once of

everything.

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

Oh my goodness, Laura! I love the depth you drew out of the simplicity of turning your face toward the sun as the cycle of winter closes. You described it so beautifully here ‘not a farewell but a threshold’ 🙏🏼💛

Gayle Beavil, MA, BEd, CAPP 🇨🇦's avatar

A homecoming, a threshold. I love the idea of this. Meant to be . It was "never a thing to fear". Gorgeous.

Danii C's avatar

I watch a bird soar over the mountain,

caught in the wind—floating, weightless.

A feeling I’ve longed to know.

To not carry the weight of the world,

But to rise above it.

To see the highest peaks,

to sing among the trees,

and worry only about survival.

Maybe death isn’t darkness after all,

But reincarnation—

into something freer,

where we finally learn to fly.

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

Felt like flying as I read this, Danii! Love the weightless feeling and that turn towards reincarnation at the end 🕊️

Gayle Beavil, MA, BEd, CAPP 🇨🇦's avatar

So positive and strength-giving. Beautiful, Danii!

Joe's avatar
Jan 18Edited

There is beauty

Everywhere you look

And it is in that moment

Of seeing

Of being present

To a leaf

The bark of a tree

The bark of a dog

On a lonely winter night

The snow falling

Through pine trees

The eyes of a friend

As you talk into the night

That you glimpse

Another world

Filled with love.

If there is a shape to love

It is right in front of you

It is your life

Embrace it and you will know

Love is stronger than death.

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

I love how each of your poems, both in words and how it’s structured, feels like a guiding light — my favorite: if there is a shape to love, it is right in front of you, it is your life ❤️

Joe's avatar

Thanks Ash. Thanks for the prompt.

Gayle Beavil, MA, BEd, CAPP 🇨🇦's avatar

YES!! It is YOUR LIFE! Exactly!!

Elyza-Breath Blooming (E.B.B.)'s avatar

I really struggled to write something for this prompt...and I don't really like what I've written, but because I did write something, I'll post it anyway....

Maybe Death isn’t darkness,

after all, for the ocean wave

comes crashing against the shore

only to return to the infinite flow.

Maybe love is the gravity

that pulls us onto the infinite,

cosmic shore & Death the wave

that rides it. Maybe Death is

an energetic tide rising & rising

to meet the sacred breath

of the universe. Maybe it is

what meets us at our deepest

depth, an interminable silence

lighting the body from within,

until we rise like sunlight

sparkling on the water.

Joe's avatar

I love it

Elyza-Breath Blooming (E.B.B.)'s avatar

Thank you, Joe!

Joe's avatar

You’re welcome

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

This flows like a wave in the ocean, Elyza. Beautiful! This line deeply resonated me with me — maybe love is the gravity that pulls us onto the infinite cosmic shore 🌊

Elyza-Breath Blooming (E.B.B.)'s avatar

So glad you liked it…and that it flowed well to you. That line also deeply resonated with me.

Gayle Beavil, MA, BEd, CAPP 🇨🇦's avatar

I love all the questions. and the rising at the end. Its true: the wave crashes and doesn't end, does it? It returns.

Elyza-Breath Blooming (E.B.B.)'s avatar

Thank you so much!

Linda Meg Frith's avatar

Maybe Darkness isn’t Death After All

After Mary Oliver

Poplar branches interlace above us

form of canopy of light,

all around winters dark

is prominent, but here

under the ceiling of poplars

glimmers of light

brings hope and renewal.

Maybe death brings light

instead of darkness,

maybe everything we think

we know is opposite

to what the light can bring.

We are so certain of what we see,

the unseen is a mystery,

let go of what you think you know

and breathe into the hope of more.

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

I want to stand beneath the ceiling of poplars 💛 I love the perspective shift this poem invites us into Linda — “maybe everything we think we know is opposite to what the light can bring.”

Gayle Beavil, MA, BEd, CAPP 🇨🇦's avatar

Love this fresh perspective and lens. Love the poplar canopy letting in light!

Gayle Beavil, MA, BEd, CAPP 🇨🇦's avatar

I am late with mine! I hope someone sees it. Thank you for this prompt!

As a Gift from a Girl

(after Mary Oliver)

Maybe death isn’t darkness after all

what if it is light,

as life is?

If we held death in our hands, as

crystal or courage, or

a gift of delphiniums from a girl,

long-stemmed, lithe lavender petals

with whispered yesses and fistfuls of lacey leaves,

we would easily what shone in our palms

tender and precious as the

legacy it is,

the days we’ve felt love and been lost and

knelt in forgiveness

and stood open-armed in the

sun’s benevolence or

a river’s silent roar,

accepting

the delphiniums as sacred, as a token,

as silver, or pebbles, or a kiss,

or the girl, the gift in us and the

ordinary wonder

of the cobalt, cherry blossom and baby blue hues

she offers in thanks.

Gayle Beavil

Abbie Shanahan's avatar

I am a little late to the party, but I enjoyed this prompt. Mine is a little less nature this time, and instead all the places I feel most attuned to something else:

Might it Be

Maybe death

isn’t darkness after all,

but the kaleidoscope of colors

behind closed eyes

becoming embodied

as I am unbodied

Rising together

into the plane where

crystal bowls

sing in words

there,

in the release of fear

shadow dreams become visible,

and we move from observer into One

Poetry Outdoors's avatar

This is beautiful, Abbie - I love imagining that kaleidoscope of colors behind closed eyes and becoming embodied as you are unbodied, wow! Thank you for sharing 💛