You look out of your window, and realize something is growing in the garden of your vision and when you take a closer look you notice they are small mushrooms of loneliness. Popping out in the garden even if you never planted them. Fungi are like that, they move through this world in mysterious ways, they were planted here many moons before you learned your name. Don’t worry, they are not poisonous, they are safe, I have tried them myself.
Sometimes to let go of something, first you ought to hold them close to your chest.. sometimes you need to eat them… It takes time to realize that even the darkness is a gift. I need to remind myself that darkness is the cup which holds the light, the same way dark universe holds our sun.
I am glad I exist.
Mary Oliver
In Blackwater Woods
Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it
go,
to let it go.
One Poem At A Time 