Blue Iris Harmony

Another day where it's not worth venturing out. Occasional gleam of sunshine, gone by the time I collect my coat and camera. So it's an indoor blip. Bought these miniature irises - Harmony - the day after we arrived with not a bud in sight. They have not only flowered gloriously but outgrown their allotted 6 inches too.


Now that I'm free to be myself, who am I?

Can't fly, can't run and see how slowly I walk.

Well, I think, I can read books.

"What's that you're doing?"
the green-headed fly shouts as it buzzes past.

I close the book.

Well, I can write down words, like these, softly.

"What's that you're doing?" whispers the wind, pausing
in a heap just outside the window.

Give me a little time, I say back to its staring, silver face.
It doesn't happen all of a sudden, you know.

"Doesn't it?" says the wind, and breaks open, releasing
distillation of blue iris.

And my heart panics not to be, as I long to be,
the empty, waiting, pure, speechless receptacle.


Mary Oliver from her book of poems, BLUE IRIS