Listen

It seems fitting to share a poem today, as I’ve been thinking about Mary Oliver so much the last couple of days. What a gift she gave to us. I read several of her poems this morning while I drank my coffee and decided I’d finish up this poem that I’ve been tinkering with for weeks.

.

Listen

Listen for me

Listen to the chatter of the ducks
outside the window and the whir
of the dishwasher in the morning

Listen

Listen to your children whispering
and your husband snoring
Listen to the breeze that rustles the birch
and the sucking wind that pulls at the bedroom curtains

Listen to the incessant ping ping ping of your phone,
your thumbs tapping the screen
Listen to your boredom,
to the scrape of the fork on the plate
the groans of your children dismayed with their dinner

Listen to the rumble of the school bus trundling
Doors slamming
Bass pulsing
Listen to the store clerk arguing and the baby screaming
in the aisle with beans and bread

Hear the snow rumble down the mountain side
and the screams of the owl in the night
Hear the apple let go
of the branch
and the ants scurry, hurry over the log

Hear the leaden water fill the child’s cup
the salty brine lap the side of an inflatable boat
Hear the sneakers slap the pavement
the thud in wet grass as the hooded teenager falls
Hear the scrape of desks
slide into barricade position
Hear the sirens
Hear the screams
Hear the mother’s atavistic keen

Oil spilling
Oceans weeping
Thrushes singing
Women dancing
Fathers searching
for food to feed their children
Whales breaching
Watchers gasping
Lovers clinging
Cells dividing

Listen

Listen