This collection made me want to live inside a windblown leaf. Absolutely stunning. ( )

I enjoy Mary Oliver's ability to draw a quick picture and make a point about nature or something deep in the human soul. Some poems were absolutely beautiful and I enjoyed reading them over and over. Others left me cold. But it's a short collection and worth dipping into. My favorites were "Another Everyday Poem" and "Summer Morning." I wrote both in my commonplace book, as well as this snippet from "Sometimes":

"Instructions for living a life:
Pay attention.
Be astonished.
Tell about it."

That, I think, describes her poetry perfectly. ( )

An examined life in natures lens. A couple of dings for at DC&co. Percy wags his tail. ( )

Z really liked this first foray into Mary Oliver. She's a great bridge for non-kid-targeted contemporary poetry for wordnerds, especially nature-loving ones. ( )

This slim book of poetry – recommended by a good friend – contains 61 poems. Until this recommendation, I had never heard of this poet, but I really do appreciate finding another poet who reminds me of my favorite, Billy Collins. Mary Oliver’s Red Bird contains poems with simple language, clear imagery, with profound insights into the human condition.

The best thing I can do is to quote a few of the many favorites I found in the collection, most of which focuses on nature. “Of the Empire” has a timely theme:

We will be known as a culture that feared death
and adored power, that tried to vanquish insecurity
for the few and cared little for the penury of the
many. We will be known as a culture that taught
and rewarded the amassing of things, that spoke
little if at all about the quality of life for
people (other people), for dogs, for rivers. All
the world in our eyes, they will say, was a
commodity. And they will say that this structure
was held together politically, which it was, and
they will say also that our politics was no more
than an apparatus to accommodate the feelings of
the heart, and that the heart, in those days,
was small, and hard, and full of meanness. (46).

Some poems have a Zen-like quality. In “Both Worlds,” for instance, Oliver writes,

“I rise from the chair,
I put on my jacket
and leave the house
for that other world –

the first one
the holy one –
where the trees say
nothing the toad says

nothing the dirt
says nothing and yet
what has always happened
keeps happening:

the trees flourish
the toad leaps
and out of the silent dirt
the blood-red roses rise.” (51-52)

Many others have a philosophical bent. This short poem hacks a lot into six lines. “I Ask Percy How I Should Life My Life (Ten) sums up many of Oliver’s sentiments.

“Love, love, love, says Percy.
And run as fast as you can
along the shining beach, or the rubble, or the dust.

Then, go to sleep.
Give up your body heat, your beating heart.
Then trust.” (55)

In the waning days of 2012, this poem takes me back to Christmas weekend, and the honeymoon we never had. Port Aransas, Mustang Island, Padre Island, the gulf, the hotel pool, walks at night, in the morning, and in the afternoon with quiet dinners alone. How closer can I connect to a poem than that? As I near the thoughts of retirement, Oliver and Percy have found the truth: “Love, love, love.”

Mary Oliver’s collection, Red Bird, deserves a read, and a second closer read, and a third, even closer, and a fourth… 5 stars.

--Jim, 12/30/12 ( )