Five A.M. in the Pinewoods

I’d seen
their hoofprints in the deep
needles and knew
they ended the long night

under the pines, walking
like two mute
and beautiful women toward
the deeper woods, so I

got up in the dark and
went there. They came
slowly down the hill
and looked at me sitting under

the blue trees, shyly
they stepped
closer and stared
from under their thick lashes and even

nibbled some damp
tassels of weeds. This
is not a poem about a dream,
though it could be.

This is a poem about the world
that is ours, or could be.
Finally
one of them—I swear it!—

would have come to my arms.
But the other
stamped sharp hoof in the
pine needles like

the tap of sanity,
and they went off together through
the trees. When I woke
I was alone,

I was thinking:
so this is how you swim inward,
so this is how you flow outward,
so this is how you pray.

~~ Mary Oliver ~~

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4 responses to “Five A.M. in the Pinewoods

    • Hi Sandy – That poem was found when it was shared by a friend on Facebook. I don’t know where he found it, but I would bet it’s in one of Mary Oliver’s books. ALSO – Thank you my artist friend for that beautiful card I received in the mail. I’m always astonished at your artistry and the manner in which you are able to put a beaufitul collage together. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

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