Every day, Mary Oliver reminds me:
You don’t have to be good.
But here’s the thing—
So desperately, I want to be good—
I want to reach in and translate the world,
Because
Already,
I know how to notice the black-capped bird sitting on my fence
I know how to see a window rivered with silver rain
I know how to laugh with the otters playing in the white-frosting waves
I know how to stare in wonder (for too many minutes)
In awe of the red-tailed hawk cresting the wind
Of the dandelion fairies, wished upon
Of the layers and layers of amaryllis petals (how can something like that be real?)
I know how to reach for things lost—
My mother’s hands, translucent and warm
My father’s eyes, blue and home
But that was just today—
And I just need to know—
What language can I possibly know to render such things?
english beat two 
What a poem! Mary Oliver is pure inspiration, and I appreciate how your emulated her work here, centering nature. I love the line “My father’s eyes, blue and home” – saying so much in just a few words!
This is beautiful. It makes me think about how much I, too, wish I could reach for… but it’s too hard to grasp onto.
Oh, my this is so gorgeous. I love those sweet lines of all the things you know. The lines of your mother and father are so touching and I love this because I can see it: “I know how to see a window rivered with silver rain.”
This is stunning! So many beautiful images for the reader to savour. “The window rivered with silver rain”. “mother’s hands, translucent and warm”. Really a treat to read, thank you!