Will I ever give fewer than 5 stars to Mary Oliver? I rather doubt it. ( )

Once Again

Mary's tender words,
her lyrical progeny
offers me comfort ( )

This is a nice compilation of forty-seven poems, all about nature, botanicals, the weather and spirituality. I looked forward to reading some of these works in the evening, before I drifted off to sleep. I'm sharing one poem which felt significant to me, as so many places are currently experiencing drought conditions.

LINGERING IN HAPPINESS
After rain after many days without rain,
it stays cool, private and cleansed, under the trees,
and the dampness there, married now to gravity,
falls branch to branch, leaf to leaf, down to the ground
where it will disappear—but not, of course, vanish
except to our eyes. The roots of the oaks will have their share,
and the white threads of the grasses, and the cushion of moss;
a few drops, round as pearls, will enter the mole’s tunnel;
and soon so many small stones, buried for a thousand years,
will feel themselves being touched. ( )

Archibald McLeish said of Mary Oliver that she had discovered the world we all live in and do not see and cannot feel. In this new volume she demonstrates, perhaps more affectionately than ever before, "what it means to be human and what is worthwhile about life," or, more simply, why the poet wakes early.

I've heard a great number of Mary Oliver's poems throughout my years in creative writing programs. I have never heard one I didn't not love. I was enthusiastic to finally read a complete volume of her work and I picked Why I Wake Early for no reason whatsoever. It was just the first to grab my attention.

I didn't love this collection the way I'd hope I would. There are several possible reasons for this. Perhaps this isn't Oliver's best collection. Maybe I just wasn't in the right mood. Or maybe Oliver's work is best when read aloud. There were many great moments in Why I Wake Early, but there were also several times when I felt the imagery was cloying. At times I felt like I was reading a collection of Ruth Bell Graham, a poet who wrote some beautiful and inspiring poems, but who isn't particularly known for her innovative verse. And so I feel like I missed something. I blame myself. Nevertheless, Oliver's poetry was beautiful and certainly full of skill. I just didn't connect fully. Because I loved everything I'd heard before this and because I'm sure it was all my fault I didn't relate, I'm compromising on my rating and promising that I'll give Oliver another try someday in the near future. ( )