by Sherri Koehler | Jul 2, 2017 | Poetry
The Journey by Mary Oliver One day you finally knew what you had to do, and began, though the voices around you kept shouting their bad advice– though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your ankles. “Mend my life!” each...
by Sherri Koehler | Feb 6, 2017 | Poetry
The Buddha’s Last Instruction by Mary Oliver “Make of yourself a light” said the Buddha, before he died. I think of this every morning as the east begins to tear off its many clouds of darkness, to send up the first signal—a white fan streaked with pink and violet,...
by Sherri Koehler | Sep 8, 2016 | Poetry
This Morning by Mary Oliver This morning the redbirds’ eggs have hatched and already the chicks are chirping for food. They don’t know where it’s coming from, they just keep shouting, “More! More!” As to anything else, they haven’t had a single thought. Their eyes...
by Sherri Koehler | Aug 23, 2016 | Poetry
Birdwings by Jalal al-Din Rumi Your grief for what you’ve lost lifts a mirror up to where you’re bravely working. Expecting the worst, you look, and instead, here’s the joyful face you’ve been wanting to see. Your hand opens and closes and opens and closes. If it were...
by Sherri Koehler | Jul 1, 2016 | Poetry
Getting There by David Wagoner You take a final step and, look, suddenly You’re there. You’ve arrived At the one place all your drudgery was aimed for: This common ground Where you stretch out, pressing your cheek to sandstone. What did you want To be? You’ll remember...
by Sherri Koehler | Jul 1, 2016 | Poetry
The Summer Day by Mary Oliver Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the black bear? Who made the grasshopper? This grasshopper, I mean– the one who has flung herself out of the grass, the one who is eating sugar out of my hand, who is moving her jaws back...
