Weekly Scribblings Poem -- for Mary Oliver and Landscape
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Photo mine, Copyright,
Jimmiehov 2018 (link)
Poem, "Landscape" by Mary Oliver (link)
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Would We Listen
If our Mother Nature could speak
Then I know some tales that she'd tell
Miraculously made beauty
Eons or Big Bang creation
For you for me hard to believe
Families, campers, hikers, climbers
For what ever reason they come
Most will not be disappointed
Those visitors must please her much
If she could tell would we listen
The trees would sing wind in their tops
They'd sing of rabbits nibbling near
Deer rubbing antlers on tree trunks
Flowers below colors so bright
Yellow, violet, orange and red
Dismal scenes though, thieves and dozers
Axes and saws, plows and mowers
Houses offices parking lots,
Resident animals hunted
Lakes polluted water taken
Remember Indigenous folk
Their reverence did well for them
We moved them off, reservations
We are guardian of all this
How well are we doing our job
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Mary Oliver had a love for Nature and spent untold hours enjoying being in it and writing about it. She was one of America's favorite poets. She died January 17, 2019.
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- Photo and Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2018 and 2021, All Rights Reserved.
- I am linked with Rosemary at Weekly Scribblings # 52, https://poetsandstorytellersunited.blogspot.com/2021/01/weekly-scribblings-52-something-about.html, for Mary Oliver's poem, "Landscape".
Labels: Poem, Weekly Scribbling 21
posted by Jim @ 1/13/2021 12:08:00 AM
10 comments
10 Comments:
Indigenous peoples listened, and didn't need any translations to understand the messages. So-called civilisation has taken us in a different direction. I do think more people are listening again now, hopefully not too late. Thank you for this beautiful and thought-provoking piece.
I was tempted by that quote, Jim, and I love where it took you. Mother Nature’s tales are so wonderful, I just wish everyone would listen, like the Indigenous folk.
Sadly many scenic areas have been destroyed by governments permitting miners and developers on reserved land meant for retention by original inhabitants only to find later that they have had precious artifacts destroyed carelessly and not avoided.
I live among trees up here on Vermont's Canadian border, hear their songmessage daily, and try to share it with flatlanders that come and go, thinking only how "pretty" they look.
Fine work, Jim. Thanks.
I am incredibly blessed to live in a place of sheer beauty ... your poetry reinforced all the good. Nicely done, Jim.
If only we had the earth wisdom of the indigenous folk. This quote by Chief Seattle says it all: "There is no quiet place in the white man's cities. No place to hear the unfurling of leaves in spring or the rustle of the insect's wings. The clatter only seems to insult the ears. And what is there to life if a man cannot hear the lonely cry of the whippoorwill or the arguments of the frogs around the pond at night?"
Seems the more civilized we become the less we choose to listen.
Bravo for a wonderful poem Jim
Happy Wednesday
Much💝love
"How well are we doing our job" Oh, the answer isn't what nature would want to hear.
Most of humanity's deafness, when it comes to Nature, always breaks my heart (and pisses me off at times). She sings (and screams), but we rarely stop to listen or truly see. We are terribly silly creatures.
I love the idea of Mother Nature being pleased when people come to visit her.
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