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Mary Oliver

From the complications of loving you
I think there is no end or return.
No answer, no coming out of it.
Which is the only way to love, isn’t it?
This isn’t a play ground, this is
earth, our heaven, for a while.
Therefore I have given precedence
to all my sudden, sullen, dark moods
that hold you in the center of my world.
And I say to my body: grow thinner still.
And I say to my fingers, type me a pretty song.
And I say to my heart: rave on.


Mary Oliver was an old lesbian who died earlier this year. I think, in the poem above, she is (at least on one level) addressing life itself. She feels deep, interesting ambivalence toward some aspects of life. What seems difficult is maybe really beautiful; a difficult moment makes the poet more curious. (“I say to my body: grow thinner still....I say to my heart: rave on.”)

Ambivalence is painful--it’s two strong emotions, in conflict--but it’s also a fact humming along through life. It’s nice to think of “diving in” to ambivalence, rather than trying to tidy up areas that can’t be tidied up. 

Love is depicted as a maze: “no coming out of it.” Love is also a mute animal, giving “no answer.”

Like Mary Jo Salter’s “A Benediction,” Mary Oliver’s poem names various contradictions, and it seems to say, keep going when things are impossible. “Pay attention. Be awestruck. Tell about it.” Those were Oliver’s instructions for life.
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