North Country
In the north country now it is spring
and there is a certain celebration.
The thrush has come home.
He is shy and likes the
evening best, also
the hour just before morning;
in that blue and gritty light he
climbs to his branch, or smoothly
sails there. It is okay to know only
one song if it is this one. Hear it
rise and fall; the very elements of your soul
shiver nicely. What would spring
be without it? Mostly frogs.
But don't worry, he
arrives, year after year, humble
and obedient and gorgeous.
You listen and you
know you could live a better life
than you do, be softer, kinder.
And maybe this year you will
be able to do it. Hear how his voice
rises and falls. There is no way to be
sufficiently grateful for the gift we
are given, no way to speak
the Lord's name often enough,
though we do try, and
especially now, as that dappled
breast breathes in the pines
and heaven's windows in the north
country, now spring has come,
are opened wide.
~ Mary Oliver
New and Selected Poems: Volume Two
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