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Today, on February 9th, 2010, the site contains 196 poets, 8,692 poems and 8,017 comments.
Mary Oliver - When Death Comes

When death comes
like the hungry bear in autumn;
when death comes and takes all the bright coins from his purse

to buy me, and snaps the purse shut;
when death comes
like the measle-pox

when death comes
like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

I want to step through the door full of curiosity, wondering:
what is it going to be like, that cottage of darkness?

And therefore I look upon everything
as a brotherhood and a sisterhood,
and I look upon time as no more than an idea,
and I consider eternity as another possibility,

and I think of each life as a flower, as common
as a field daisy, and as singular,

and each name a comfortable music in the mouth,
tending, as all music does, toward silence,

and each body a lion of courage, and something
precious to the earth.

When it's over, I want to say all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.

When it's over, I don't want to wonder
if I have made of my life something particular, and real.

I don't want to find myself sighing and frightened,
or full of argument.

I don't want to end up simply having visited this world.

Added: on July 20th, 2006 at 6:46 AM | Viewed: 38989 times | Comments (15)


When Death Comes - Comments and Information

Poet: Mary Oliver
Poem: When Death Comes

Poem of the Day on:
Nov 30 2003

Comment 15 of 15, added on February 25th, 2009 at 11:33 PM.

I ♥ this Poem Ay

Charieyt from Canada
Comment 14 of 15, added on January 26th, 2009 at 2:23 AM.

Oliver suggests that eternity is not a place like heaven but a state of consciousness that is so mysterious that our brains cannot comprehend it and our words cannot describe it.

Modern theologies (which aren't actually modern at all, seeing as how mostly they haven't changed for the last 2000 years) claim to have all the answers. I love Mary Oliver because she doesn't need the answers. She celebrates the mystery.

Oliver's poem does not seek to tell us that our uniqueness makes us special, but rather that it renders us common. In other words, we are unique just like everyone else. The world might be a better place if we all took a page from Oliver's book. We'd suffer a lot less from self-importance, righteous indignation, and the insane idea that we have it all figured out.


Anna from United States
Comment 13 of 15, added on July 20th, 2006 at 6:46 AM.

This is a poem that does throw the reader. The images at the beginning seem not to connect, with the strongest lines of her wonderment of going through the doors of death. However, the lines and images do all work together. Death is never an easy subject, especially if there has been a recent departing in one's circle of friends or family. Poets take on the challenge of giving a framework of emotions that help heal--or to at least to ponder.
I would encourage everyone not to rush through this poem, but try to join the poet as she weaves her journey to the unknown. You may also want to read Langston Hughes' "Dear Lovely Death". It is a poem that I find myself reading many times.

dallas from United States

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