My Mary Oliver Poems #5 - “Long Afternoon at the Edge of Little Sister Pond”

As for life,

I’m humbled,

I’m without words

Sufficient to say

How it has been hard as flint,

And soft as a spring pond,

Both of these

And over and over,

And long pale afternoons besides,

And so many mysteries

Beautiful as eggs in a nest,

Still unhatched

Though warm and watched over

By something I have never seen –

A tree angel, perhaps,

Or a ghost of holiness.

Every day I walk out into the world

To be dazzled, and then to be reflective.

It suffices, it is all comfort –

Along with human love,

Dog love, water love, little-serpent love,

Sunburst love, or love for that smallest of birds

Flying among the scarlet flowers.

There is hardly time to think about

Stopping, and lying down at last

To the long afterlife, to the tenderness

Yet to come, when

Time will brim over the singular pond, and become forever,

And we will pretend to melt away into the leaves.

As for death,

I can’t wait to be a hummingbird,

Can you?

What caught my eye about this poem was the beautiful, evocative way that Oliver describes the journey of our lives in all of its joy, uncertainty, and discomfort. She speaks with reverence about the amazing gift of our life and about all of the awe-inspiring, grounding, comforting experiences that we’re able to enjoy in nature. I enjoyed the descriptive language that she uses throughout the poem – for example, how she ponders the “many mysteries, beautiful as eggs in a nest, still unhatched.” I also enjoyed her choice of perspective that we are “warm and watched over, by something I have never seen – a tree angel, perhaps, or a ghost of holiness.” I appreciate the sense of intentionality and love in creation that this perspective allows for, the sense of purpose and innate beauty and truth within us and around us. As she remarks, this suffices and is all comfort to us as we adventure through our lives. And, in discussing the common anxiety that we all feel creeping up on us from time to time about our mortality, Oliver chooses to speak again with love, reverence, awe, and hope about “when time will brim over the singular pond, and become forever.” She chooses to live in the beauty of the moment, taking it all in, and to appreciate eagerly the adventure that awaits her at the end of her life. I thoroughly enjoyed experiencing Oliver's long afternoon at the edge of Little Sister Pond and feel grateful to have places that remind me of her experience; for example, long afternoons on the dock at Lake Okanagan and quiet evenings along the Coal Harbour.