In Blackwater Woods
Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars
of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,
the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders
of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is
nameless now.
Every year
everything
I have ever learned
in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side
is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it
against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go.
“In Blackwater Woods” by Mary Oliver, from American Primitive. (c) Back Bay Books, 1983.
Beautiful.
I hope time is healing you and your family, Cindy.
Love,
Anita
Thank you Cindy❤️
Every year at this time I feel an extra jolt, in remembering this beautiful family and still wondering why. I hope that time has given all the loved ones more smiles than sorrow, revisiting all the good and joy they brought during their time on earth.
My thoughts and prayers are continuing. Always.
Sangini M. Bedner
I travel this road lots. And have wondered the details of this tragedy. . So very sad.m such a great looking family… god bless