Normally I reserve this blog for original poetry. But today is different. The poet of my heart, Mary Oliver, died today. As a remembrance of her delicate, provocative, and powerful words, here is one of my favorite: Peonies. (photo credit: Chandra Sherin, wildclover.org) Peonies by Mary Oliver This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready to break my heart as the sun rises, as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers and they open – pools of lac
Words of love ground us in who we have always been; remind us of who we can yet become. Words of love lift our chins when our heads hang low; usher us into uncomfortable places of growth. Words of love comfort, heal, restore, and mend. Words of love sing goodness into the universe that lies within.