The Wanlorn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
the_wanlorn) wrote2010-04-25 03:04 pm
the_wanlorn) wrote2010-04-25 03:04 pm
Entry tags:
Mary Oliver, "Mockingbirds"
Today I had my first seafood dinner of the season because it is my sister's birthday and she always goes to the little shack for lunch on her birthday and I ate all the fried shrimp and fried clam strips and clam fritters in the world. I feel kinda sick now, but I'm not sorry.
Reminder: I am going radio silent on LJ for three weeks starting tomorrow! I will still be updatingthe_wanlorn on a daily(ish?) basis. If you want to follow the RSS feed of my Dreamwidth, that's here. If you want a code to sign up for Dreamwidth, I've got a bazillion, just comment of email. If you want to ignore me for three weeks, that is cool too! I will miss you and see you when I get back. ♥
There is at least one fic gonna be posted. MAYBE MORE. Speaking of fic, give me some ideas for snippets!
Never Will I Ever Meme: Name a fic you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return, I will attempt to write a snippet of that fic.
I reserve the right to reject anything involving Cap or DC characters at my discretion. And, really, whatever else I don't feel like doing.
Mockingbirds
by Mary Oliver
This morning
two mockingbirds
in the green field
were spinning and tossing
the white ribbons
of their songs
into the air.
I had nothing
better to do
than listen.
I mean this
seriously.
In Greece,
a long time ago,
an old couple
opened their door
to two strangers
who were,
it soon appeared,
not men at all,
but gods.
It is my favorite story--
how the old couple
had almost nothing to give
but their willingness
to be attentive--
but for this alone
the gods loved them
and blessed them--
when they rose
out of their mortal bodies,
like a million particles of water
from a fountain,
the light
swept into all the corners
of the cottage,
and the old couple,
shaken with understanding,
bowed down--
but still they asked for nothing
but the difficult life
which they had already.
And the gods smiled, as they vanished,
clapping their great wings.
Wherever it was
I was supposed to be
this morning--
whatever it was I said
I would be doing--
I was standing
at the edge of the field--
I was hurrying
through my own soul,
opening its dark doors--
I was leaning out;
I was listening.
Reminder: I am going radio silent on LJ for three weeks starting tomorrow! I will still be updating
the_wanlorn on a daily(ish?) basis. If you want to follow the RSS feed of my Dreamwidth, that's here. If you want a code to sign up for Dreamwidth, I've got a bazillion, just comment of email. If you want to ignore me for three weeks, that is cool too! I will miss you and see you when I get back. ♥There is at least one fic gonna be posted. MAYBE MORE. Speaking of fic, give me some ideas for snippets!
Never Will I Ever Meme: Name a fic you think I will never, ever, ever write. In return, I will attempt to write a snippet of that fic.
I reserve the right to reject anything involving Cap or DC characters at my discretion. And, really, whatever else I don't feel like doing.
Mockingbirds
by Mary Oliver
This morning
two mockingbirds
in the green field
were spinning and tossing
the white ribbons
of their songs
into the air.
I had nothing
better to do
than listen.
I mean this
seriously.
In Greece,
a long time ago,
an old couple
opened their door
to two strangers
who were,
it soon appeared,
not men at all,
but gods.
It is my favorite story--
how the old couple
had almost nothing to give
but their willingness
to be attentive--
but for this alone
the gods loved them
and blessed them--
when they rose
out of their mortal bodies,
like a million particles of water
from a fountain,
the light
swept into all the corners
of the cottage,
and the old couple,
shaken with understanding,
bowed down--
but still they asked for nothing
but the difficult life
which they had already.
And the gods smiled, as they vanished,
clapping their great wings.
Wherever it was
I was supposed to be
this morning--
whatever it was I said
I would be doing--
I was standing
at the edge of the field--
I was hurrying
through my own soul,
opening its dark doors--
I was leaning out;
I was listening.
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