Vivian Lee Mahoney Consider Yourself Warned: I Write Books About Rebels
Happiness, Poppies and Hope
I adore this poem. It makes me think of spring, sunshine, hope and happiness. Enjoy.
Poppies
by Mary Oliver
The poppies send up their
orange flares; swaying
in the wind, their congregations
are a levitation
of bright dust, of thin
and lacy leaves.
There isn’t a place
in this world that doesn’t
sooner or later drown
in the indigos of darkness,
but now, for a while,
the roughage
shines like a miracle
as it floats above everything
with its yellow hair.
But I also say this: that light
is an invitation
to happiness,
and that happiness,
when it’s done right,
is a kind of holiness,
palpable and redemptive.
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