Sleeping in the Forest

Posted by | July 30, 2005 | 3 Comments

I thought the earth remembered me,
she took me back so tenderly,
arranging her dark skirts, her pockets
full of lichens and seeds.
I slept as never before, a stone on the river bed,
nothing between me and the white fire of the stars
but my thoughts, and they floated light as moths
among the branches of the perfect trees.
All night I heard the small kingdoms
breathing around me, the insects,
and the birds who do their work in the darkness.
All night I rose and fell, as if in water,
grappling with a luminous doom. By morning
I had vanished at least a dozen times
into something better.

© Mary Oliver

Categories: Poetry | Tagged: | 3 Comments

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  1. Gate C22, P-town & poetry | Heidi's Table says:
    May 19, 2010 at 6:54 AM

    [...] being stupid, I'd politely accept. She'd show me the forest where she slept on the mossy floor and vanished into something better; I'd meet her dog Percy; maybe we'd walk on the beach. I'd thank her for Wild Geese and for When [...]

    Reply
  2. Wherein Hot ‘n’ Steamy Monday Momma pays me a visit. And writes a guest post. | Heidi's Table says:
    August 10, 2010 at 11:17 AM

    [...] Her voice interrupted my thoughts. “I suppose there’s mossy soft forest floor hugs, too, like in Mary Oliver’s poem, “Sleeping in the Forest.” [...]

    Reply
  3. Pardon the pronouns but Whitman was right: I am vast. I contain multitudes. | Heidi's Table says:
    January 31, 2011 at 5:07 PM

    [...] And I looked at the bare trees in the setting sun. And I thought of Mary Oliver and the line in that one poem about sleeping on the forest floor, and about how it took her back so tenderly… And that’s what made me cry: the kindness [...]

    Reply

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