At Blackwater Pond the tossed waters havesettledafter a night of rain.I dip my cupped hands. I drinka long time. It tasteslike stone, leaves, fire. It falls coldinto my body, waking the bones. I hear themdeep inside me, whisperingoh what is that beautiful thingthat just happened?
Mary Oliver
6 comments:
Pure mountain stream water was one of the pleasures of growing up out West. Wherever I find a pure source of water in nature, I stop and drink from it's depths.
Hi Cate
A lovely shot of the yellow leaves and the beautiful blue skys we seem to be getting this fall. The Oliver poem was nicely chosen.
Guy
Oh, so perfect, perfect.
Beautiful image
Mary Oliver
my favorite...
I am goose bump happy to have read this wonder from Mary Oliver.
Beautiful words and autumn leaves and lake.
I LOVE Mary Oliver...
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