Every morning I walk like this around the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart ever close, I am as good as dead.
Mary OliverPoetry is one of the original arts, and it began, as did all the fine arts, within the original wilderness of the earth.
Mary OliverSunrise What is the name of the deep breath I would take over and over for all of us? Call it whatever you want, it is happiness, it is another one of the ways to enter fire.
Mary OliverAnd who will care, who will chide you if you wander away from wherever you are, to look for your soul?
Mary Oliverfrom the complications of loving you i think there is no end or return. no answer, no coming out of it. which is the only way to love, isn't it? this isn't a playground, this is earth, our heaven, for a while. therefore i have given precedence to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods that hold you in the center of my world. and i say to my body: grow thinner still. and i say to my fingers, type me a pretty song. and i say to my heart: rave on.
Mary Oliver