Thanksgiving at Bedlam Farm 2017

Wishing you all the Thanksgiving day you want most.

I read this Mary Oliver poem this morning and it felt close to what I’m feeling today.

What Was Once the Largest Shopping Center in Northern Ohio  Was Built Where There Had Been a Pond I Used To Visit Every Sunday Afternoon

by Mary Oliver

“Loving the earth, seeing what has been done to it, 
I grow sharp, I grow cold.

Where will the trilliums go,and the coltsfoot?
Where will the pond lilies go to continue living
their simple, penniless lives, lifting
their faces of gold?

Impossible to believe we need so much 
as the world wants us to buy.
I have more clothes, lamps, dishes, paperclips
than I could possibly use before I die. 

Oh, I would like to live in an empty house,
with vines for walls, and a carpet of grass.
No planks, no plastic, no fiberglass.

And I suppose sometime I will.
Old and cold I will lie apart
from all this buying and selling, with only
the beautiful earth in my heart.” 


13 thoughts on “Thanksgiving at Bedlam Farm 2017

  1. Beautiful poem – thank you for the reminder.
    Watching the sheep eating their hay made me wish that all living creatures
    could have enough to eat today.

  2. this brought back a memory to me. my mother loved trees esp. in spring and summer.
    i was about six years old living in a small town. we were waiting to cross the road to go food shopping at the brand new larger grocery store.
    my mom still holding my hand stepped back from the curb and knelt down next to me. in vivid detail she described the wooded park that had stood there before. i could see it through her words in that moment..she shared the beauty that was so it wouldn’t be fogotton. while we lived there i would often close my eyes for a moment and see the park not the store.

    1. Oh Alexa, what a powerful story. I don’t know your mothers story, although I can imagine it, but I can see the story you’ve told very clearly, with all the emotion.

  3. Thank you, Maria.
    And I want you to know: I have done exactly ONE Black Friday. It was a promise I fulfilled for my then-young twin boys, that we could go to the post-Thanksgiving festival the newest mall south of here was holding.
    I think it took us under an hour to run, escape…and agree we would NEVER do it again!!!

  4. Ah how grounding, nature is a soul experience, not something you can buy. My email is clogged with black friday specials, my delete finger is getting overworked.

    This is interesting from a poll company I get reports from:
    “Despite the hoopla surrounding Black Friday, most Americans continue to say they will not partake in one of the biggest days of the year for shopping deals. But this is interesting: The latest Rasmussen Reports national telephone and online survey finds that 64% of American Adults say they are not likely to go shopping on the day after Thanksgiving to take advantage of Black Friday sales, including 42% who are Not At All Likely.”

  5. this blog was a gift to me in that it reminded of a special moment with my mother.
    I’ve always known that my mother passed her love of nature and long walks on to me but in my life, special, precious, memories have often been lost amongst the clutter.
    i realize this is off topic but having this memory return to me by way of that poem means so much to me that i wanted to share it with you.
    i could also sense alot of my mothers similar feelings about the subect in the poem.
    i find it wonderful how words including those put into form of poems can impact..touch a persons life.
    being able to write poerty myself was a gift passed onto me by my beloved grandmother. having read your blog for several months has given me the courage to not just say i write poems. i am a poet. Thank You Maria. you are an inspiration to many people.

    1. Thanks for letting me know Alexa. That means a lot to me. It’s so much of what I hope to do, inspire creativity in others. I know how important it is for me to be able to do my work and put it out into the world. It took me most of my life to be able to call myself an artist. I hope you’ll share your poems with us.

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