worldmotheringair: How I go to the woodsOrdinarily, I go to the…

worldmotheringair:

How I go to the woods

Ordinarily, I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.

I don’t really want to be witnessed talking to the catbirds
or hugging the old black oak tree. I have my way of
praying, as you no doubt have yours.

Besides, when I am alone I can become invisible. I can sit
on the top of a dune as motionless as an uprise of weeds,
until the foxes run by unconcerned. I can hear the almost
unhearable sound of the roses singing.

If you have ever gone to the woods with me, I must love
you very much.

    

 ―
 
   Mary Oliver,
 
   
     Swan: Poems and Prose Poems
   

Reposted from http://lies.tumblr.com/post/183404119601.

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