Imbolc, Brigid Poetry cyber fest 2009

Messenger

My work is loving the world.
Here the sunflowers, there the humming bird – equal seekers of sweetness.
Here the quickening yeast; there the plums.
Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.

Are my boots old? Is my coat torn?
Am I no longer young, and still not half perfect? Let me keep my mind on what matters,
Which is my work,

Which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished.
The phoebe, the delphinium.
The sheep in the pasture.
Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,

Which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart and these body-clothes,
A mouth with which to give shouts of joy
To the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam,
Telling them all, over and over, how it is that we live forever.

Mary Oliver

At last,
just before midnight,
I know which poem to slam.
My friend gave me Mary Oliver's poem for my birthday.
She gave me the gift of naming my work
"My work is loving the world"!
I entered a floating alternate reality of knowing who I am,
of being witnessed for who I am.

I said:
"I want to see dolphins and know that I've seen them for sure"
We turned the corner,
onto the quay
and there they were
three?
four?
five?
black, finned hillocks in the grey glassy sea.
We were mesmerised.
Had they heard me?
Did they come to witness my friend's hillock belly?

The baby is close to birth in Bríd's moon.
During the four months since the dolphin trance,
her belly has grown
and I have blessed and buried my dead mother
and then blessed new life within a new mother.
Bright blessings on new life and new mothering
Bright blessings on all whose "work is loving the world"

copyright Bríd Wyldearth Imbolc 2009