Words Of A Woman

Mary Oliver

2 years ago by

Mary Oliver

Coming Home
By Mary Oliver

When we are driving in the dark,
on the long road to Provincetown,
when we are weary,
when the buildings and the scrub pines lose their familiar look,
I imagine us rising from the speeding car.
I imagine us seeing everything from another place–
the top of one of the pale dunes, or the deep and nameless
fields of the sea.
And what we see is a world that cannot cherish us,
but which we cherish.
And what we see is our life moving like that
along the dark edges of everything,
headlights sweeping the blackness,
believing in a thousand fragile and unprovable things.
Looking out for sorrow,
slowing down for happiness,
making all the right turns
right down to the thumping barriers to the sea,
the swirling waves,
the narrow streets, the houses,
the past, the future,
the doorway that belongs
to you and me.

Photo courtesy of Rachel Giese Brown, via the Poetry Foundation

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  • Three things I love from you today. An essay by Garance, a new sourdough baker to follow (I’m a sourdough baker too), and, now, this evocative poem from Mary Oliver. There are so many feelings contained in a few stanzas, and vivid reminders of a place I know well. Thank you.

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