The poem
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.
Rereading this poem can never recreate the experience I had with the first reading -- the entering into the ground, the stars, the leaves, then the surprise of what that does to you -- changing you with each shift of attention. Beautiful!
After reading Mary Oliver's poems, I pay attention to those moments spend in the nature. I love the poem Sleeping in the forest... The Blue Dragonfly I thought this place on earth; This lake might have remembered me I Sat on the edge of the bank immobile. Like the stone laying beside me Between me and the vast blue sky; Few clouds are keeping me company The winds faithful as always whispering in my ears A swirl in…
Read the whole commentAfter reading Mary Oliver's poems, I pay attention to those moments spend in the nature.
I love the poem Sleeping in the forest...
The Blue Dragonfly
I thought this place on earth;
This lake might have remembered me
I Sat on the edge of the bank immobile.
Like the stone laying beside me
Between me and the vast blue sky;
Few clouds are keeping me company
The winds faithful as always whispering in my ears
A swirl in the meadow like a mini tornado;
Nothing else but my thoughts drifting away;
Tall dark green pine trees surrounded me.
I could hear all that nature has to offer
The merry-go-round of Birds catching flies
As did a fish creating ripples in the water;
The blue dragonfly spinning in the air
Dancing with a partner;
A perfect love affair.
A deer resting in the shadow that you could barely see
Only visible where his pointing ears scrutinizing all around him
Or chasing mosquitoes may be.
By Sundown I could not tally the many times
That I enter the twilight zone
a space between daydream and the reality
Some alternate state that I did carry into the night
To be now transform into a night dream.
. .
Patrick Albouy Organowsky © 2004
This poem is excellent. It is a very Romantic poem. With certain elements of Transcendentalism in it. It's great!
This was my introduction to Mary's poems, and I've since collected all of her books. Some poems, as this one, continue to conjure up beautiful pictures in my mind with each reading... of what is "real" and what is deeply mysterious. I love "Pink Moon, the Pond", as it also leaps back and forth between conscious awareness to dream.
I need to know from which of her poetry books this poem is taken. Would much appreciate your help. Thank you. NS
Oliver protrays dreams as an escape from life. The speaker "vanished[vanishes] at least dozen times into something better," sugesting fantasy is better than reality. The speaker could possibly be dead and reflecting back on life but as the poem's title is sleeping it more of a dream than death. The tone of the poem is fanciful and reflective. This poem relates to another poem by this author titled "when death comes." This poem doesn't have rhymes, nor does it have alliteration but it still an amazeing poem.