The stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Every spring I hear the thrush singing in the glowing woods he is only passing through. His voice is deep, then he… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
The god of dirt came up to me many times and said so many wise and delectable things, I lay on the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
It doesn't have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones; just… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
...there was a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
I GO DOWN TO THE SHORE I go down to the shore in the morning and depending on the hour the waves… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Poetry is a river; many voices travel in it; poem after poem moves along in the exciting crests and falls of the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Belief isn't always easy. But this much I have learned--- if not enough else--- to live with my eyes open. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
In this universe we are given two gifts: the ability to love and the ability to question. Which are, at the same time, the… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Poetry is one of the original arts, and it began, as did all the fine arts, within the original wilderness of the earth. — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
The dream of my life is to lie down by a slow river and stare at the light in the trees - to learn… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“All important ideas must include the trees, the mountains, and the rivers. • To understand many things you must reach out of your own condition.” — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“Sometimes I think, were I just a little rougher made, I would go altogether to the woods—to my work entirely, and solitude, a few… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
“First Snow The snow began here this morning and all day continued, its white rhetoric everywhere calling us back to why, how, whence such beauty… — mary oliver Copy Share Image
“What can I say that I have not said before? So I’ll say it again. The leaf has a song in it. Stone is… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
There is nothing better than work. Work is also play; children know that. Children play earnestly as if it were work. But people grow… — Mary Oliver Copy Share Image
