Tag: Mary Oliver

The Donkey

With Spring officially here the weather has been a mix of cold and windy, or warm and sunny – which is what I experienced when I visited the farm this week. It was a beautiful day to enjoy the country side, to help feed the animals, to groom Abigail the miniature horse, and groom the two donkeys, Zacchaeus and Barnabas. 

Abigail, the miniature horse.

I had a deeper appreciation for the two donkeys this Holy Week as I thought about the poem by Mary Oliver, “The Poet thinks About the Donkey.”

Barnabas and Zacchaeus, the two resident donkeys.

This poem was read at our church on Palm Sunday. It focuses on the donkey Jesus rode into Jerusalem – how the donkey waited, not knowing what for, then let himself be led and mounted. He was obedient as he placed one hoof in front of the other, and stepped into the crowd.

An excerpt:

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

Here is a link to the entire poem: “The Poet Thinks About the Donkey“. I enjoyed the poet’s interesting perspective.

I had to include this photo of the newest additions to the farm… Jonathan and David.
I call them, large dryer balls.

As I was leaving the farm, I spotted my first crocus in bloom this season. Its simple elegance stood out against the backdrop of dried grass and twigs.

A beautiful spring sighting. Photo Credit: S. Holm

Have a blessed Holy Week.

Mary Oliver

Mary Oliver, an American poet, died yesterday at age 83. I have not read a lot of poetry. Some works I find difficult to understand, but there are many poems by Mary Oliver that I do like. I plan to reread her works. In fact, when I was looking online for information about her, I noticed one site suggested reading a poem a day by Mary Oliver. I may try that.

In the last few years I have been engaged in more poetry, especially through writings of two different friends. Just last week I went to my first poetry reading, where one of the above mentioned friends read her work, along with other poets. It was an enjoyable and enriching experience. And at times, I have dabbled in writing my own poetry.

The old oak tree at Valley Grove.

In honor of Mary Oliver here is one poem always makes me smile (link here). It is from her book A Thousand Mornings. 

“Foolishness? No, It’s Not.

Sometimes I spend all day trying to count the leaves on a single tree. To do this I have to climb branch by branch and write down the numbers in a little book. So I suppose, from their point of view, it’s reasonable that my friends say: what foolishness! She’s got her head in the clouds again.

But it’s not. Of course I have to give up, but by then I’m half crazy with the wonder of it — the abundance of the leaves, the quietness of the branches, the hopelessness of my effort. And I am in that delicious and important place, roaring with laughter, full of earth-praise.” 
― Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings