Woke up, got out of bed,
Saw a cat there at the head,
Found my way downstairs, and had a bite,
Looking up, I thought I might be late.
Found my coat but not a hat,
Made my car in seconds flat.
Found my way up there and saw these things:
Somebody spoke …
When Death Comes – A Poem by Mary Oliver
When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse
to buy me, and snaps his purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox;
when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,
I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering;
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?
And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,
and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,
and each name a comfortable music in the mouth
tending as all music does, toward silence,
and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.
When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was a bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.
When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.
I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened
or full of argument.
I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.
And I went into a dream.
Thanks to the Beatles, to Mary Oliver, to the Longwood Medical Area of Boston (including Children’s Hospital, where I spent many days in my life), to my workplace, and to all the participants at the Northeast Society for Group Psychotherapy’s yearly 3-day conference in Boston (for which I arrived five hours early, yesterday). Many thanks to you, especially, for glancing and observing, on this day in your life.
Reminds me of the song, “Flowers In The Rain”!
I don’t know that song, Rajiv! I will listen to it, later today. So wonderful to see you here, on this day in our lives.
Five hours early surely beats five seconds late, Ann.
You lived it large yesterday, my friend.
As usual, you go right to the core, Mark. Thank you!
Love the story you told with pictures.
Love that you read and commented. Thank you, Phil.
I love the way you’ve adapted the song by the Beatles (don’t know the title) to your own experience. My experience most days is ‘Woke up… and fell into a dream’!
I love what you wrote, Annabelle, about my adaptation of “A Day in the Life.” Thanks so much!
I’ll have to carry that one with me for a while…
I hope it’s a helpful load, Ronnie! Thanks for the visit and comment, today.
The abrupt transition from late adolescence to death made me pause, uncertain about what that might imply, but then I read the poem. Indeed, being bride and bridegroom to world and wonder is the way to go until you’re gone. I have always liked Ferlinghetti’s “I Am Waiting” with its lines about awaiting a rebirth of wonder, but waiting is, of course, unproductive. We must look for it inside and outside ourselves, cultivate it, and help others find it as best we can.
Beautiful, Gene. I’m so glad you read, thought, and wrote this today.
A favorite poet and a favorite Beatles tune….needless to say, I loved this post.
I am so glad, about all of this. Thanks for reading and expressing those loves.
I have had little time to comment on your blog posts as of late! I wanted to say I am sorry you were having pacemaker troubles, but you should never feel afraid of looking foolish when it comes to your own health. As the poem posted here indicates life and existence is too beautiful to take too many chances. Especially when it something you feel that is wrong when your body is speaking to you. The amount of people who have been foolish worrying about their own health is a vast multitude and you are in good company. So keep on being sensitive and picky!
The poem here about death reminds of a song that I think you will like. While it is about death, it is joyful as well, and you can tell that the person also lived a full life and thus death is nothing to grieve about. 🙂 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5oNToCIXD6w
Hey, Swarn!
I was thinking that the poem also says that life and existence is too beautiful NOT to take chances, but I was thinking of different types of chances. So thank you, very much, for validating and leaving room for me to have the reactions I’ve been having about what’s being going on with my pacemaker (and other physical issues). I love that you are telling me that being “foolish” is a good thing!
I listened to the song … thank you so much for introducing me to that!
What a creative post 🙂
That is a huge compliment, coming from creative you, Alex.
Nice post, great photos and you did remember one of your cats too Ann 🙂
Of course, Irene. I always love to include the cats and I imagine that as a shout-out to you, also.
Yes 😀
I feel sad. I feel curious. I feel wonderment. I feel joy.
Diana xo
I feel blessed. I feel grateful. I feel wonderment. I feel joy.
Ann xo
What an incredibly full day!! May this conference feed you and inspire you 🙂
Thank you for your kind, gentle, and insightful thoughts, Val. I am feeling quite fed and inspired, right now.
Such a cool post–now that Beatles song will be my new earworm! Thank goodness because, Sir Mix Alot’s I Like Big Butts song was stuck in my head!
Looks like you’re having a very interesting time. Enjoy yourself and learn a bunch! 🙂
I checked out the “I Like Big Butts” song after reading this comment. I am enjoying myself and learning a bunch! Thank you for the read, the song, and the comment.
Oh, no, Ann!! You shouldn’t have listened to it! You’ll never get that song out of your head–it’s my worst earworm!! My daughters introduced me to it years ago. I think it was their plot to distract me from their teenaged hijinks. “My anaconda don’t want none unless you’ve got buns hon…” Oh, God! It’s back (bad grammar and all)!!!! LOL!
Don’t worry. I’m fine. Somehow, it didn’t become an earworm for me. But, with your warning … I’ll try not to listen to it again!
What a great post… Got out of bed dragged a comb thru my hair:)
I’m so glad you liked this post! Always great to see you here (whether or not you’ve combed your hair).
You had me at “saw a cat there by my head.” And not a bad song to have stuck in my head!
I’m so pleased, on both counts. Thanks for the awesome comment, Jill.
Great post 🙂
Thank you so much for letting me know!
Love the beat to this post from the very first verse…wonderful, and your days seem to be filled with just about all. Wish you well.
Thank you for your wishes, and your appearance here fills my days, even more. Wonderful to see you, as always.
🙂 That makes me happy too!
Wow, Ann. This is really so special. You’ve given me a gift in this post. I particularly needed the Post-it, “When someone is angry…” I REALLY needed that. 🙂 And the Mary Oliver poem is beyond special. You make the ordinary extraordinary, Ann. ox
Talk about a gift! This comment made me feel special, and very understood. oxox back at you!
A wonderful journey through your day. It is brilliantly creative in format….you got me hung when I realized, without word, that you sucked me into the Beatles 🙂
I read your views today, oh boy!! Many thanks.
I love the way you express yourself. I am so happy that you are following me and sharing your reactions as you are, improving these days in my life.
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