[1679] Summer

Guest poem sent in by Arunasri Nishtala <arunasri@>

Leaving the house,
I went out to see

The frog, for example,
in her satiny skin;

and her eggs
like a slippery veil;

and her eyes
with their golden rims;

and the pond
with its risen lilies;

and its warmed shores
dotted with pink flowers;

and the long, windless afternoons;
and the white heron

like a dropped cloud,
taking one slow step

then standing awhile then taking
another, writing

her own soft-footed poem
through the still waters.

    -- Mary Oliver

This poem says it all. Delightfully vivid and the last lines dive deep,
where poetry is a hobby of frogs...

I guess it is our attempt in understanding and appreciating art, poetry
and nature that that can lift us human beings up to the high standards
of the other members of nature: the plant kingdom and the animal kingdom.

Arunasri

[this poem is archived, accessible and awaiting your comments at]
http://www.cs.rice.edu/~ssiyer/minstrels/poems/1679.html
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