I am recharged and ready to revise a draft mother blessing ceremony this week.

I spent the weekend camping with friends, south of Arivaca, Arizona. We hiked, ate stone soup, sang by the fire, laughed and told stories. Did I mention yet that I love hearing and telling stories? Well, yes. And I love poetry, too. (A good thing, because stories and poems are two of my richest resources as a weaver of ceremonies!)

While camping, mother nature reminded me why I am often inspired by Mary Oliver’s poetry. As I viewed an inky night sky through my tent window, seeing a sparkling moon rise over the mountains, I thought of her poem When (from the Fall 2009 Parabola). If you haven’t read her work, it gives you a good taste:

When it’s over, it’s over, and we don’t know

any of us, what happens then.

So I try not to miss anything.

I think, in my whole life, I have never missed

the full moon

or the slipper of its coming back.

Or, a kiss.

Well yes, especially a kiss.

Mmmmm, a kiss! If you already know her work, do you have any favorite Mary Oliver poems you would like to share?

Kristine