Snow Garden

Our yard was a garden
of snow and our father
was the gardener. He
made snow forts and
an obstacle course of
sorts for my sisters and
me in the front yard one
winter. It was an exciting
adventure, and a little
bit scary, but I felt safe
knowing that Dad was
guiding the sled and
guarding the fort. I still
remember his laugh
that day as we squealed
with delight, holding tight
to the orange, plastic sled.

In Honor of Mary Oliver (September 10, 1935 – January 17, 2019)

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

-- Mary Oliver, "The Summer Day"

My One Wild and Precious Life

My one wild and precious life
does not belong to my
parents or predecessors
nor to my
pastor or priest or preacher or pope.
My one wild and precious life
does not belong to my
president
or to my
principal
or to my
peers
or the
privileged pillars
of my
patriarchal society.
My one wild and precious life
does not belong to
politicians
or to the
"pretty people"
or the
power hungry
or to my
pocketbook, property or prosperity.
My one wild and precious life
does not belong to a
painful or problematic past
or to
perfectionism
or my
propensity for people pleasing
nor to a
profession, promotion or pursuit of prestige.
My one wild and precious life
does not belong to
purveyors of prejudice
or to
peddlers of propaganda
nor to the
principles that someone else holds.
My one wild and precious life
belongs to me
to protect and preserve it,
to pursue peace,
to practice compassion,
and to progress as the particular person I was put on the planet to be.

(I remain rich)

I remain rich
as long as I am surrounded by
books, music and art.