The Gift
 
After the wind-bruised sea
furrowed itself back
into the folds of blue, I found
in the black wrack
 
a shell called the Neptune -
tawny and white,
spherical,
with a tail
 
and a tower
and a dark door,
and all of it
no larger
 
than my fist.
It looked, you might say,
very expensive.
I thought of its travels
 
in the Atlantic's
wind-pounded bowl
and wondered
that it was still intact.
 
Ah yes, there was
that door
that held only the eventual, inevitable
emptiness.
 
There's that - there's always that.
Still, what a house
to leave behind!
I held it
 
like the wisest of books
and imagined
its travels toward my hand.
And now, your hand.
 
~ Mary Oliver ~
 
(The Truro Bear and Other Adventures)
 
 
 
 
 




 
 
 
Web archive of Panhala postings: www.panhala.net/Archive/Index.html
 
To subscribe to Panhala, send a blank email to Panhala-subscribe@yahoogroups.com
 
To unsubscribe from Panhala, send a blank email to Panhala-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com
 
music link
(left button to play, right button to save)