The poem
This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready to break my heart as the sun rises, as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers
and they open --- pools of lace, white and pink --- and all day the black ants climb over them,
boring their deep and mysterious holes into the curls, craving the sweet sap, taking it away
to their dark, underground cities --- and all day under the shifty wind, as in a dance to the great wedding,
the flowers bend their bright bodies, and tip their fragrance to the air, and rise, their red stems holding
all that dampness and recklessness gladly and lightly, and there it is again --- beauty the brave, the exemplary,
blazing open. Do you love this world? Do you cherish your humble and silky life? Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath?
Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden, and softly, and exclaiming of their dearness, fill your arms with the white and pink flowers,
with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling, their eagerness to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are nothing, forever?
From the very first line I fell in love with this poem. Green fists getting ready to break my heart...Oh my! Adoring the green grass with it's terror beneath..How did she come up with this? My 82 year old mother mailed a copy to me and we both felt the same way, amused, enchanted, enthralled. I think I'd like to read more.
Oliver has a fantastic knack for weaving quality of life into her poems. Running half-dressed into the garden? My--what a surprise. The peonies compared to lace is awesome; the ants as workers and as attending a wedding is incredible. This poems makes me want to stare at a garden full of peonies, drink in their fragrance, and do something juvenile--like jump into a puddle or sing in the rain.