poety pause: Of Goodness :: mary oliver

 

© Rachel Giese Brown

Of Goodness

How good

that the clouds travel, as they do,

like the long dresses of the angels

of our imagination,

or gather in storm masses, then break

with their gifts of replenishment,

and how good

that the trees shelter the patient birds

in their thick leaves,

and how good that in the field

the next morning

red bird frolics again, his throat full of song,

and how good

that the dark ponds, refreshed,

are holding the white cups of the lilies

so that each is an eye that can look upward,

and how good that the little blue-winged teal

comes paddling among them, as cheerful as ever,

and so on, and so on.

-Mary Oliver