Poem: “When I Am Among the Trees” by Mary Oliver

 When I am among the trees,            

especially the willows and the honey locust, 

equally the beech, the oaks and the pines 

they give off such hints of gladness.                  

I would almost say that they save me, and daily.

 

I am so distant from the hope of myself, 

in which I have goodness, and discernment, 

and never hurry through the world

but walk slowly, and bow often.

 

Around me the trees stir in their leaves 

and call out. “Say awhile.” 

The light flows from their branches.

 

And they call again, “It’s simple,” they say,                 

“and you too have come 

into this world to do this, to go easy, to be filled 

with light, and to shine.”