The Poet Dreams Of The Mountain

J.S. Bach: Cantata for the Ascension







sometimes
I grow weary
of the days,
with all their
fits and starts.
I want to
climb some
old gray mountains,
slowly, taking
the rest
of my lifetime
to do it,
resting often,
sleeping
under the pines
or, above them,
on the unclothed rocks.
I want to see
how many stars
are still
in the sky
that we have
smothered
for years now,
a century at least.
I want to look back
at everything,
forgiving it all,
and peaceful,
knowing
the last thing
there is to know.
all that urgency!
not what the earth
is about!
how silent
the trees,
their poetry
being of
themselves only.
I want to take
slow steps,
and think
appropriate thoughts.
in ten thousand years,
maybe, a piece
of the mountain
will fall.

--Mary Oliver
The Poet Dreams of the Mountain