in blackwater woods

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.
—Mary Oliver









Love is the reason of life. At least this is what this poem is saying to me. The only way to fulfill your life is if you learn to use it. If you can learn to love and learn when to let it go, and continue to love even after letting it go, then you have achieved the meaning of love and of life.
Recently after dealing with the news of the death of Lucious, I have thought about the meaning of love. Lucious never said he was coming to teach the Yankees how to feed the poor. Mr. Webster made that up. He said, “I am going to teach those Yankees how to love.” Completely different I know, right?
Whether you have religious beliefs or not Lucious would reprimand those who came to ‘serve the poor.’ You came to ‘serve Jesus.’ But love, that was his main point in the same talk he gave every week.
He would explain to all the kids, that they had the best parents in the world. He would give reasons why we were in debt to our parents. Of course if you had never heard this speech before you start to feel pretty badly about yourself. But then, he says that you can get out of your parents. You say to your mom while giving her a hug, ‘I love you thank you for being my mom. For cooking for cleaning for raising me.’ And to your dad, “I love you thank you for being my dad. For working, for paying the bills for paying for my education.” And you were not welcome back if you did not do this.
I never know which kids actually go home and do this. I know that I never did. I tell my parents I love and appreciate them all the time, why would I have to do it this way?
After the funeral when I came home I went to my mother and said “I love you. You are the best mom in the world. Thank you for being my mom.” And to my dad when he walked in the door, “I love you. Thank you for being my dad.”