library for lost creatures

It is now April and official one of my favorite months: poetry month. How exciting that we get to celebrate such beautiful, artistic expression. I love poetry as I love breakfast; my favorite meal of the day. Poetry in the morning is a breath of fresh air and a necessary edition to your morning routine. Reading poetry in the morning, I find, sets the tone for the rest of the day, in the same vein as reading devotions or meditating. However, I have not found anything that gives me quite the same sensation as the combination of breakfast paired with poetry. The most important meal of the day. Like breakfast, poetry deserves to be savored rather than scarfed. I read slowly, ingesting every word, pondering every word; why rush through such a feast!

For the past several months, I have sporadically read through Mary Oliver’s Devotions, an appropriate title. This book was curated by Mary before she passed in 2019. Each poem selected is a musing on humanity’s connection to the natural world. This is my introduction to Mary’s work and I am astonished by her artistry. She manages to place words to emotions that I have only felt stir when I am surrounded by nature. Her poetry invokes wonder, something I’ve lost somewhere between 2020 and 2024. Mary allows us to think outside of ourselves and ponder how the world feels and sees itself. Yesterday, on my walk beside a lake, I sat on the shore and recalled her poem Do Stones Feel? I felt safety rather than silliness in her questions written in the poem. I love her personification of nature; it makes the world feel less expansive and your own fears less haunting. While I have been reading this collection on and off for months, I am only a quarter way through. Like breakfast, poetry deserves to be savored rather than scarfed. This is not a sprint, but a leisurely walk through the woods. Here are some titles by Mary that you should peruse over breakfast throughout the month. I won’t spoil them for you.

On Meditating, Sort Of

The Pond

That Little Beast

I Happened to be Standing

Tides

The Orchard

Night Herons

The Gift

I woke up this morning to a purple sunrise that solidified my belief in poetry for breakfast. How else would I know how to hold all that wonder and amazement from what I had just witnessed? Reading through Mary’s poetry suddenly gave me the words and emotions I’ve had tucked away into the corners of my mind that I can’t quite reach. Oh, to wonder again.