Don't call this world adorable, or useful, that's not it.
It's frisky, and a theater for more than fair winds.
The eyelash of lightning is neither good nor evil.
The struck tree burns like a pillar of gold.

But the blue rain sinks, straight to the white
feet of the trees
whose mouths open.
Doesn't the wind, turning in circles, invent the dance?
Haven't the flowers moved, slowly, across Asia, then Europe,
until at last, now, they shine
in your own yard?

Don't call this world an explanation, or even an education.

When the Sufi poet whirled, was he looking
outward, to the mountains so solidly there
in a white-capped ring, or was he looking

to the center of everything: the seed, the egg, the idea
that was also there,
beautiful as a thumb
curved and touching the finger, tenderly,
little love-ring,

as he whirled,
oh jug of breath,
in the garden of dust?

Artwork
SpaceNotation #14
29,7 x 21cm
graphite on paper
Nicole Wendel @nicole_wendel

Poem
Where Does the Dance Begin, Where Does It End? 2004
From: Why I Wake Early (2004)
Mary Oliver

Explore more in Artists and Poems: Berlin 2021

Artists and Poems: Berlin 2021

Artists

Andreas Wolf, Aneh Ondare, Anke Völk, Ari-Pekka Leinonen, Bettina Weiß, Carlos Silva, Carola Rümper, Charlotte Bastian, Dan Allon, Dana Engfer, Daniel Wiesenfeld, Detlef Baltrock, Elisabeth Sonneck, Eva Schwab, Jürgen Kellig, Jasmine Justice, Jesse Farber, Julia Krewani, Katja Pudor, Kerstin Serz, Kuno Ebert, Majla Zeneli, Matthias Reinmuth, Meike Kuhnert, Michel Aniol, Miguel Rothschild, Mike MacKeldey, Nicole Wendel, Niina Lehtonen Braun, Oliver Möst, Ruth Wiesenfeld, Stephan Wang, Susanne Ring, Tanja Selzer, Ulrike Dornis, Vanessa Enriquez

About Artists and Poems: Berlin 2021