Poem: Morning At The Pond by Mary Oliver

I discover this beautiful poem as I wait for my flight to NYC.  I Love when beauty takes you by surprise. Listen to this…
Morning at the pond
It starts like this:
Forks of light
Slicking up
Out of the east,
Flying over you,
And what’s left of the night-
Its black waterfalls,
Its craven doubt-
Dissolves like gravel
As the sun appears
Trailing clouds
Of pink and green wool,
Igniting the fields,
Turning the ponds
To plates of fire.
The creatures there
Are dark flickerings
You make out
One by one
As the light lifts-
Great blue herons,
Wood ducks shaking
Their shimmering crests-
And Knee deep
In the people shallows
A deer drinking:
As she turns
The silver water
Crushed like silk,
shaking the sky,
And you are healed then
From the night, your heart
Wants more, you are ready
To rise and look!
To hurry anywhere!
To believe in everything.

I’m in awe. This pen is  magnificent. It transports me to the pond near my house, where a great heron and lots of wood ducks live. What a great way to start my trip.

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