Thursday, 3 November 2011

At Blackwater Pond

At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters
have settled after a night of rain. I dip
my cupped hands. I drink
a long time. It tastes
like stone, leaves, fire. It falls
cold into my body, waking
the bones. I hear them
deep inside me, whispering
oh what is that beautiful thing that just happened?

~Mary Oliver