A friend has a tattoo on her forearm that reads: "This is exactly the poem I want to write."
Which translated to me as, "This is exactly the life I want to live."
Though I think it comes from a poem from Mary Oliver
which stirred my thoughts.
Lucky to even think about how I want to live my life.
Lucky not to worry about basic needs, and live in peace.
If truth be told the only thing I would change (other than world peace, illness, hatred…) would be the miles between
my family/friends and my life in France.
—-
White Heron Rises Over Blackwater
"I wonder what it is that I will accomplish today
If anything can be called that marvelous word.
It won’t be
My kind of work, which is only putting words on a page,
The pencil
Haltingly calling up
The light of the world,
Yet nothing appearing on paper half as bright
As the mockingbird’s verbal hilarity
In the still unleafed shrub in the churchyard-
Or the white heron rising over the swamp and the darkness,
His yellow eyes and broad wings wearing
The light of the world in the light of the world-
Ah yes, I see him."
He is exactly the poem I wanted to write.
Mary Oliver
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