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Monday, 3 January 2011


I found the entire poem that Stacy posted a photo of and thought to share it...

Mary Oliver - Starlings in Winter

Chunky and noisy,  
but with stars in their black feathers, 
 they spring from the telephone wire and instantly  
they are acrobats in the freezing wind. 
And now, in the theater of air,  
they swing over buildings,  
dipping and rising;  
they float like one stippled star that opens,  
becomes for a moment fragmented,  
then closes again;  
and you watch and you try but you simply can’t imagine  how they do it with no articulated 
no pause,  
only the silent confirmation that they are this notable thing,  
this wheel of many parts, that can 
rise and spin over and over again,  
full of gorgeous life.  
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,  
even in the leafless winter,  
even in the ashy city. 
I am thinking now of grief, 
and of getting past it;  
I feel my boots trying to leave the ground,  
I feel my heart pumping hard. 
I want  to think again of dangerous and noble things.
 I want to be light and frolicsome. 
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,  
as though I had wings.
Happy New Year again! x [With special thanks to Stacy who made me aware of this lovely poem]

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