I try to be good but sometimes a person just has to break out and act like the wild and springy thing one used to be. It's impossible not to remember wild an want it back.
Mary OliverRead
Do you love this world? Do you cherish your humble and silky life? Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath? Do you also hurry, half-dressed and barefoot, into the garden, and softly, and exclaiming of their dearness, fill your arms with the white and pink flowers, with their honeyed heaviness, their lush trembling, their eagerness to be wild and perfect for a moment, before they are nothing, forever?
Interpretation
This quote invites appreciation for the beauty of the world and the fleeting nature of life.
Mary Oliver's quote is a reflective contemplation on the joys of existence and the intricate beauty found in nature. It emphasizes cherishing the small moments of life, such as the appreciation of flowers in a garden, while acknowledging their transient beauty and the underlying terror that may accompany such enjoyment. This invites readers to engage deeply with their surroundings and to recognize the preciousness of every moment, as life is ultimately ephemeral.
In practice
In a graduation speech about cherishing the moment.
I try to be good but sometimes a person just has to break out and act like the wild and springy thing one used to be. It's impossible not to remember wild an want it back.
At the time I was growing up, literature was involved with the so-called confessional poets. And I was not interested in that. I did not think that specific and personal perspective functioned well for the reader at all.
I know the sag of the unfinished poem. And I know the release of the poem that is finished.
For poems are not words, after all, but fires for the cold, ropes let down to the lost, something as necessary as bread in the pockets of the hungry.
If I have any lasting worth, it will be because I have tried to make people remember what the Earth is meant to look like.
Every day I see or hear something that more or less kills me with delight, that leaves me like a needle in the haystack of light.
But the trees seemed to know me. They whispered among themselves and beckoned me nearer. And looking around, I noticed the other small trees and wild plants and grasses had sprung up under the protection of the trees we had placed there. The trees had multiplied! They were moving. In one small corner of the world, Grandfather's dream was coming true and the trees were moving again.
I don't feel I've arrived home until I get on the beach. All my life, the theater of the sea has been a very strong thing.
Men need to know the elemental challenges that sea and mountains present. They need to know what it is to be alive and to survive when great storms come. They need to unlock the secrets of streams, lakes, and canyons and to find how these treasures are veritable storehouses of inspiration. They must experience the sense of mastery of adversity. They must find a peak or a ridge that they can reach under their own power alone.
Does anything eat flowers. I couldn't recall having seen anything eat a flower - are they nature's privileged pets?
A narrow pond would form in the orchard, water clear as air covering grass and black leaves and fallen branches, all around it black leaves and drenched grass and fallen branches, and on it, slight as an image in an eye, sky, clouds, trees, our hovering faces and our cold hands.
The first crocodile I ever caught was at nine years of age, and it was a rescue.
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