One day earlier this week I rose quite early. In the pre-dawn hours, even the dog didn’t stir. I made my way downstairs, grabbed a coat, and walked into the backyard, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Leonid meteor shower. Even though the skies were clear, I knew the chances of catching sight of a meteor this time around were not great. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
As I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I noticed how different my backyard felt. I was alone, yet not alone. The mysteries of nature surrounded me. I listened for new sounds, noticed the shapes of shadows, and marveled at the patterns of stars, wishing I could name more than just the very familiar.
I didn’t see a shooting star that morning, but somehow I felt fulfilled from the experience. Instead of going back to bed, I picked up Devotions by Mary Oliver and read these words from “The Book of Time”:
“…I am standing by the open door.
And now I am stepping down onto the grass.
I am touching a few leaves.
I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies
move together, in a twinkling cloud, over the field.
And I am thinking: maybe just looking and listening
is the real work.
Maybe the world, without us,
is the real poem.”
My poem is in response to Mary Oliver, whose words never cease to inspire.
In Search of a Shooting Star
by Rose Cappelli
Walking outside,
crisp, cool air
kisses my cheek.
Looking up,
a sprinkling of twinkling stars
fills the sky.
Listening in solitude,
the tentative tapping of squirrels
breaks the silence.
I wait,
watch,
wish.
And that is enough.
On this magical morning,
the world is a poem.
No shooting star needed.
Carol has the Poetry Round Up this week at Beyond Literacy Link. Be sure to stop by for a dazzling array of poetry, photos, and art in her Bedecked in Autumn Gallery Walk. You won’t be disappointed!
Imagine the Possibilities 
Oh Rose, I love your entire post! And your poem, it is wonderful. I would want to read this again and again. My Devotions is on the table near me now and I think you have done Mary Oliver complete justice in creating a beautiful poem in a similar vein. Yes, sometimes nature or all the time perhaps nature calls and teaches. I was at the wonderful lecture by Brian Cambourne at ILA in I think San Antonio several years ago where he talked about his thinking on research, especially reading, and how we should consider biology and what is found in nature. I am a huge fan of Brian’s work and a “friend” in that I have had the pleasure of spending time in person with him and continuing to communicate with and revere his ideas. Wisdom is there for us to find and I love how your poem shows this. PS I can relate to those squirrels and their tapping!!
Janet Clare F.
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Thank you so much, Janet. I appreciate your kind words and observations.
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Really gorgeous, Rose. I love sitting outside in the dark though with the city lights, I manage only a few stars. But it is full of special shadows & sounds, just like you wrote, “the world is a poem./
No shooting star needed.” Thanks, & Happy Thanksgiving!
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Thanks, Linda! Happy Thanksgiving!
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Beautiful…absolutely beautiful the experience and the inspiration and the poem. It’s a whole sermon in there. Amen.
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Thanks so much. And Happy Thanksgiving!
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Rose, I read this earlier but did not have time to comment. Your poem is lovely. The feeling of cool, crisp air kissing a cheek is refreshing. Have a Happy Thanksgiving.
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Thank you, Carol!
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Rose, your reply poem is as filled with grace and wonder as Mary’s original. Somehow it’s easier to connect with the world’s poem-ness in the still times…
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Rose this post is so lovely and I love the rhythm and alliteration of your poem. Wonder-filled! Happy Thanksgiving.
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I actually like your version better than hers! (Shhhh…) Ruth, thereisnosuchthingasagodforsakentown.blogspot.com
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Ha ha! Thanks!
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