There is a thing in me that dreamed of trees, A quiet house, some green and modest acres A little way from every troubling town, A little way from factories, schools, laments, I would have time, I thought, and time to spare, With only streams and birds for company, To build out of my life a few wild stanzas, And then it came to me, that so was death, A…
Tag: <span>mary oliver</span>
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice– though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my life!” each voice cried. But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy…
