SLEEPING IN THE FOREST




I thought the earth remembered me,

she took me back so tenderly,

arranging her dark skirts,

her pockets full of lichens and seeds.

I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,

nothing between me and the white fire of the stars

but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths

among the branches of the perfect trees.

All night I heard the small kingdoms

breathing around me, the insects,

and the birds who do their work in the darkness.

All night I rose and fell, as if in water,

grappling with a luminous doom. By morning

I had vanished at least a dozen times

into something better.



By Mary Oliver

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More About the Poet



Oliver’s poetry is grounded in memories of Ohio and her adopted home of New

England. Influenced by both Whitman and Thoreau, she is known for her keen

observances of the natural world. Her poems are filled with imagery from her

daily walks near her home in Provincetown, Massachusetts: shore birds, water

snakes, the phases of the moon and humpback whales. Maxine Kumin calls

Oliver "a patroller of wetlands in the same way that Thoreau was an inspector

of snowstorms" and "an indefatigable guide to the natural world." Oliver has

also been compared to Emily Dickinson, with whom she shares an affinity for

solitude and interior monologues. Her poetry combines dark introspection with

joyous release. Although she has been criticized for writing poetry that

assumes a dangerously close relationship of women with nature, she finds only

the self is only strengthened through an immersion with nature. As her

creativity is stirred by nature, Oliver is an avid walker, pursuing inspiration on

foot. For Oliver, walking is part of the poetic process. Oliver is also known for

her unadorned language and accessible themes.
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Hope You Like It


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