Mary Oliver: The Fist

There are days
when the sun goes down
like a fist,
though of course

if you see anything
in the heavens
in this way
you had better get

your eyes checked
or, better still,
your diminished spirit.
The heavens

have no fist,
or wouldn't they have been
shaking it
for a thousand years now,

and even
longer than that,
at the dull, brutish
ways of mankind --

heaven's own
creation?
Instead, such patience!
Such willingness
to let us continue!
To hear,
little by little,
the voices --

only, so far, in
the pockets of the world--
suggesting
the possibilities

of peace?
Keep looking.
Behold, how the fist opens
with invitation.


From: Thirst