Somewhat Nuts IV
Postcards from Italy: Perfetto! Sì! Sì! Sì!

Sundays . . . Are for Poetry


Lines Written in the Days of Growing Darkness

Every year we have been
witness to it: how the 
world descends

into a rich mash, in order that
it may resume.
And therefore
who would cry out

to the petals on the ground
to stay,
knowing as we must,
how the vivacity of what was is married

to the vitality of what will be?
I don't say
it's easy, but
what else will do

if the love one claims to have for the world
be true?
So let us go on, cheerfully enough,
this and every crisping day,

though the sun be swinging east,
and the ponds be cold and black,
and the sweets of the year be doomed.

--- Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings


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I like the idea of thinking of winter and cold this one - what else will we do if we love the world? We have to take it with all of it's good and bad stuff. Kinda like family. ;-)


Maybe that's one reason I like winter so much; spring and what will be are even sweeter after the world descends.


Thank you.


"So let us go on, cheerfully enough,
this and every crisping day.."

I will repeat this every day like a prayer.


i'm with Margene on this one. Thank you for sharing this lovely poem.


I'm with Margene, too! "every crisping day" is the best thing I could think to say about cold December (or January or February) days! your image is a perfect caption, too!

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