Entry 44: Dear Rescuer (Golden Shovel)


This is my first venture into using the Golden Shovel poetry form.  I borrow the final lines from Mary Oliver’s poem, The Journey, to end the lines of my poem, called Dear Rescuer.  I share them both with you here.

The Journey

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice–

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

“Mend my life!”

each voice cried.

But you didn’t stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do–

determined to save

the only life you could save.

– Mary Oliver


Dear Rescuer

You need to feel pure, determined

To be seen as good, to

Work diligently to save

The vast troubled world. The

Global catastrophe only

Revealed that you built your life

Evading uncomfortable truths.  If you

Choose to remove the rose-colored glass, it could

Show you the world is not yours to save.

– Monica Biswas

adult anger art black background

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