My Mary Oliver Poem #1: "Yes! No!"

Yes! No! 

"How necessary is it to have opinions! I think the spotted trout lilies are satisfied, standing a few inches above the earth. I think serenity is not something you just find in the world, like a plum tree, holding up its white petals.

The violets, along the river, are opening their blue faces, like small dark lanterns,

The green mosses, being so many, are as good as brawny.

How important it is to walk along, not in haste but slowly, looking at everything and calling out

Yes! No! The

swan, for all his pomp, his robes of glass and petals, wants only to be allowed to live on the nameless pond. The catbrier is without fault. The water thrushes, down among the sloppy rocks, are going crazy with happiness. Imagination is better than a sharp instrument. To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work."

- Mary Oliver

This poem stopped me in my tracks when I read it, the last line reverberating in my mind "To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work." How often do I go about my day, on my way to and from home, and mindlessly walk, inattentive to my surroundings? How often would I rather spend my free time laying in bed or scrolling on my phone, when the beauty of the natural world is within reach? The natural world is composed of minuscule details offering a complexity to the human eye, bringing life and color and depth in the smallest of creatures. Oliver, in this poem, offers her observations on the small details of the world around for her as she "not in haste but slowly" sets her eyes to her surroundings. She remarks on the importance and the need to slow down, to take a moment, and look for details that compose the environment around us. She implores us to follow her example and do the same. Reading Oliver's work struck a chord within me. It stirred within me a need to pay more attention, to look around at the smallest of details. I have spent almost four years of my life in Fort Worth, Texas, and I adore it here. Yet, as my time comes to a close, the more I feel as if I have not paid attention enough. Whether to the large tree that sits outside my bedroom window, or the restless wind the blows my curls around, or the way the sun sets in the west exploding its colors across the sky, or the birds that sing to me in the morning. There's an urge to not miss any moment, as my time draws to a close. There's a desire to memorize every little part of here in case I don't return. My hope, in pondering the littlest of moments, to fall in love with home all over again.