The poet Mary Oliver died today—Jan. 17—at the age of 83 in Florida. It was in a Unitarian Universalist church service when I first heard a poem by Oliver. I can’t remember which one it was. But I do remember being taken by her work in a way that I had been with few other poems. Oliver’s work, so often invoking the natural world, is particularly accessible in a setting like worship. It can draw you in resonate with a kind of ease and grace. Perhaps her most memorial question is a good one no matter where we are on the spiritual path, from her poem “The Summer Day,” “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

In honor of her life and her work, here is one of my favorite Mary Oliver poems.

In gratitude,

Tom Disrud

Mockingbirds

This morning
two mockingbirds
in the green field
were spinning and tossing

the white ribbons
of their songs
into the air.
I had nothing

better to do
than listen.
I mean this
seriously.

In Greece,
a long time ago,
an old couple
opened their door

to two strangers
who were,
it soon appeared,
not men at all,

but gods.
It is my favorite story–
how the old couple
had almost nothing to give

but their willingness
to be attentive–
but for this alone
the gods loved them

and blessed them–
when they rose
out of their mortal bodies,
like a million particles of water

from a fountain,
the light
swept into all the corners
of the cottage,

and the old couple,
shaken with understanding,
bowed down–
but still they asked for nothing

but the difficult life
which they had already.
And the gods smiled, as they vanished,
clapping their great wings.

Wherever it was
I was supposed to be
this morning–
whatever it was I said

I would be doing–
I was standing
at the edge of the field–
I was hurrying

through my own soul,
opening its dark doors–
I was leaning out;
I was listening

                                –Mary Oliver