this country of original fire

There is, all around us,
this country
of original fire.

You know what I mean.

The sky, after all, stops at nothing, so something
has to be holding
our bodies
in its rich and timeless stables or else
we would fly away.


Off Stellwagen
off the Cape,
the humpbacks rise.  Carrying their tonnage
of barnacles and joy
they leap through the water, they nuzzle back under it
like children
at play.


They sing, too.
And not for any reason
you can’t imagine.


Three of them
rise to the surface near the bow of the boat,
then dive
deeply, their huge scarred flukes
tipped to the air.

We wait, not knowing
just where it will happen; suddenly
they smash through the surface, someone begins
shouting for joy and you realize
it is yourself as they surge
upward and you see for the first time
how huge they are, as they breach,
and dive, and breach again
through the shining blue flowers
of the split water and you see them
for some unbelievable
part of a moment against the sky –
like nothing you’ve ever imagined –
like the myth of the fifth morning galloping
out of darkness, pouring
heavenward, spinning; then


they crash back under those black silks
and we all fall back
together into that wet fire, you
know what I mean.


I know a captain who has seen them
playing with seaweed, swimming
through the green islands, tossing
the slippery branches into the air.

I know a whale that will come to the boat whenever
she can, and nudge it gently along the bow
with her long flipper.

I know several lives worth living.


Listen, whatever it is you try
to do with your life, nothing will ever dazzle you
like the dreams of your body,

its spirit
longing to fly while the dead-weight bones

toss their dark mane and hurry
back into the fields of glittering fire

where everything,
even the great whale,
throbs with song.

Humpbacks (Mary Oliver)

8 thoughts on “this country of original fire”

  1. “Nothing will ever dazzle you like the dreams of your body”

    This speaks to me loudly! I want to find and follow those dreams. Listen with ears that hear the humpback song and be content with the briefest of moments surging upward, water splashing, against a skyline.

  2. Absolutely beautiful.
    (what collection should a Mary Oliver virgin start with? I’m hooked after Jo’s post yesterday and yours today…)

  3. I have a new & collected poems book – got it used for $1.00. You can’t go wrong with one of those!

  4. I love it when you share poetry like this. That was so incredibly moving. Mary Oliver rocks the party.

    And so do you, I’ve missed you! This blog conference thing set me waaaaay back. I feel at home in this space. Just saying 🙂

  5. “Carrying their tonnage/of barnacles and joy…”

    Love this–the juxtaposition of the dark and the light.

    This poem is absolutely stunning. Thanks for sharing it.

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