Color Trilogy, Three Poems inspired by Mary Oliver’s American Primitive, written by Stephen Fuller
Mary Oliver, American Primitive, Color Trilogy
White Forest (following The Bobcat)
In the white forest, do we get lost
Or do we find the branch from which
We will swing like children once again
The smile on our faces like a revelation?
In the white forest, to our delight,
Do we discover we had been lost only
When we thought we knew our way
To be found when puzzled by the path
That seemed over grown and protected
By raspberry bushes with their spikes?
Our intoxicated promise we made ourselves
When we made it through to here
Our skin’s scratches will soon heal,
The laughter we share on our backs
Looking up at the descending darkness
Where we see the pattern of the stars
In the white forest, we traipse drunk
On what we hoped for in parts
Of our soul we had never heard,
Too busy not climbing our trees.
Black Ponds (following Blossoms)
Told how ponds opened their black blossoms
To the moon to let the light in,
I bared my black chest,
Charred from burning my heart
As if it were a simple tree that could be replanted
After razing for some short material gain grazed
From the soil like cattle soon to be slaughtered for
You. For me. For us. Now… always now, I write
As if everyday I am compelled to do something
That slipped away, forgotten like hay chewed to cud.
I am now alive. Like the pond, my heart open
To let the moon inside; to let you inside
Where we can swim before we lie down beside
The fire we lit to warm flesh cold from winter.
Autumn Ablaze (following Humpbacks)
For a moment, the world seemed defined by black blossom’d
Ponds and white forests to get lost in, to find our way; a moon,
To guide us until harvest our hearts ablaze with the forest of fall.
Autumn, you say.
I ask, “No words, please, just look at this…
This fire of trees, life lived so fully these intervening months
That the only fitting end is to be ablaze; magnificent!
These flames, see?” The black blossom’d pond and white forests
Await us, but for now, let the fire throb for our quiet song.
(C) 2020 Stephen Fuller
18 Responses to “Color Trilogy, Three Poems inspired by Mary Oliver’s American Primitive, written by Stephen Fuller”
such a wonderful conversation with Mary Oliver!
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Thank you Barbara. There are a few ways poetry emerges from my brain… through conversation with writers in the margins of books is one of the best. 🙏🙏🙏
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Beautifully interwoven poems.
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Thank you Sadje. 🙏🙏🙏. I have been writing, as is the norm, but so much more busy checking in with family and friends and kids that I just haven’t had the extra time in the day to be blogging like I was, but still very glad to see you here and for your kind words.
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You’re welcome Stephen. Life and family comes first.
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🙏🙏🙏
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👍
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This is such an interesting way to be inspired and use it creatively.
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Thank you Punam. Reading and music inspires me.
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I guess they inspire us all! You are welcome, Stephen. Stay safe.
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The Mary Oliver inspiration is clearly evident. Well done!
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Thank you Liz. Oliver is a recent, sadly, member of my dead poets society… one of the essentials along with Rilke and Frost, Wordsworth and Neruda.
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I know what you mean. I always feel such a sense of loss when a great poet leaves us.
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This is so lovely to dwell on, Stephen. Wonderfully inspiring!
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Thank you so much Eugi.
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My pleasure.
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It has taken me a while to figure out what I needed to say during these past couple of months. It needed to be different than what I was saying, in a way, but informed by what those words expressed of my journey. That has meant a bit of time away from word press inputs to be able to hear what I needed. Which also meant missing a few comments!
Sorry to have taken so long!!
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Dealing with uncertainty presents new challenges. We can only face those challenges as we see fit. You’re missed and I hope all works in your favor.
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