Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Yellow, by Mary Oliver

There is a heaven we enter
through institutional grace
and there are yellow finches bathing and singing
in the lowly puddle.

Think about that one for a little bit. I am falling asleep over my ginormous latte after staying up late to (sort of) finish a portion of a paper due today on the role of imagery as used for cultural contrast and identification in the American Feminine Regionalist work of Zitkala-Sa. Obviously I needed to relax into a little bit of sun-dappled Mary Oliver poetry. Here is another bit from one of her poems:

"Behold, I say - behold
the reliability and the finery and the teachings
of this gritty earth gift."

Happy latte-induced poetry sigh. Here are a few more shots (of me, not taken by me but by Miss Torey who was also on the Denver trip) by a frozen mountain lake, which I went ahead and jumped into (see first photo). It won coldest water that I have ever submerged in, and that includes the Mount Hermon creek on a foggy summer morning, the Arctic Ocean in Norway, and the Pacific Ocean too.

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