Out of Black Ponds, Water Lillies

Spiritual Sunday – Easter

It has become somewhat of a tradition with this blog to share a Mary Oliver lyric every Easter. That’s because suffering followed by grace is a regular theme in her poetry. In “Morning Poem” every dawn is a resurrection following the ashes of the night.

Before turning to it, let’s look at that miraculous morning when, in John’s account, Mary encountered the risen Jesus at the tomb (John 20:11-17):

But Mary stood without at the sepulchre weeping: and as she wept, she stooped down, and looked into the sepulchre, and seeth two angels in white sitting, the one at the head, and the other at the feet, where the body of Jesus had lain. And they say unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? She saith unto them, Because they have taken away my Lord, and I know not where they have laid him. And when she had thus said, she turned herself back, and saw Jesus standing, and knew not that it was Jesus. Jesus saith unto her, Woman, why weepest thou? whom seekest thou? She, supposing him to be the gardener, saith unto him, Sir, if thou have borne him hence, tell me where thou hast laid him, and I will take him away. Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master. Jesus saith unto her, Touch me not; for I am not yet ascended to my Father: but go to my brethren, and say unto them, I ascend unto my Father, and your Father; and to my God, and your God. (John 20:11-17)

In “Morning Poem,” resurrection—the kingdom of God on earth—is ready to hand if only we open ourselves to it.  This vision is available to us even if, like Oliver, we suffer from depression—even if

your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead.

We may fight against the happiness that is there for us, just as we may fight against prayer. Perhaps we resist because we fear we are setting ourselves up for disappointment. But Oliver is reassuring. Deep within us, she says, there is “a beast shouting that the earth/is exactly what [you] wanted.” And we know this is true because, inexorably, the black ponds produce—as if in answer to a prayer—blazing water lilies:

Morning Poem
By Mary Oliver

Every morning
the world
is created.
Under the orange

sticks of the sun
the heaped
ashes of the night
turn into leaves again

and fasten themselves to the high branches–
and the ponds appear
like black cloth
on which are painted islands

of summer lilies.
If it is your nature
to be happy
you will swim away along the soft trails

for hours, your imagination
alighting everywhere.
And if your spirit
carries within it

the thorn
that is heavier than lead–
if it’s all you can do
to keep on trudging–

there is still
somewhere deep within you
a beast shouting that the earth
is exactly what it wanted–

each pond with its blazing lilies
is a prayer heard and answered
lavishly,
every morning,

whether or not
you have ever dared to be happy,
whether or not
you have ever dared to pray.

Let the joy of new creation surge within you on this Easter day. The lillies are blazing, whether you pray or not.