A white owl hunting in and out of the snow helps Mary Oliver see death as spiritual transformation

snowyowl-mandel

White Owl Flies Into And Out Of The Field

Coming down
out of the freezing sky
with its depths of light,
like an angel,
or a Buddha with wings,
it was beautiful
and accurate,
striking the snow and whatever was there
with a force that left the imprint
of the tips of its wings–
five feet apart–and the grabbing
thrust of its feet,
and the indentation of what had been running
through the white valleys
of the snow–

and then it rose, gracefully,
and flew back to the frozen marshes,
to lurk there,
like a little lighthouse,
in the blue shadows–
so I thought:
maybe death
isn’t darkness, after all,
but so much light
wrapping itself around us–

as soft as feathers–
that we are instantly weary
of looking, and looking, and shut our eyes,
not without amazement,
and let ourselves be carried,
as through the translucence of mica,
to the river
that is without the least dapple or shadow,
that is nothing but light–scalding, aortal light–
in which we are washed and washed
out of our bones.

House of Light, 1990 © Mary Oliver

Seven other poems by Mary Oliver are posted on The Uncarved Blog.

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3 Responses to “A white owl hunting in and out of the snow helps Mary Oliver see death as spiritual transformation”

  1. Nathanael Chawkin Says:

    Wowwwwww

    Sent from my iPhone Nathanael Chawkin, M.A. | Founder Integral Martial Arts “All things change when we do” 805.770.2120 integralmartialarts.com

    >

    Liked by 1 person

  2. deborahbrasket Says:

    Amazing! I love her work but hadn’t read this one. I’m so glad I did. Transformation indeed. Her insights are have so much power and truth in them. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.

    Liked by 1 person

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