To Mary, My Guide

for Mary Oliver

You walk ahead,

 through the forests and glades,

 your notebook cradled in your arms,

 pen catching the glorious haze.

You never wanted to teach any other,

 you simply listened

 to the wind flowing through the trees,

 for divine wisdom.

And here am I, trying to follow,

 with my never-ending questions,

 alas - no answers in sight.

 

 You stopped at a patch of moss.

 just  with your silence.

 I wondered what you saw,

 maybe a small green temple.

From you I gleaned,

 that wonder doesn’t need a stage,

 that the soul prefers

  a crow, a tree, silence.

 You revealed, nature alive, through your gaze,

 You  wrote with your  body,

  lived in this world,

 but not to its applause.

Oh Mary,

 I walk slowly now.

 I listen more.

 Sometimes, when I write,

 I feel your hand guiding me on,

Not pressing not pulling,

Just there