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One day you finally knew what you had to do, and beguan, thought he voices around you kept shouting their bad advice-- though the whole house began to tremble and you felt the old tug at your anckles. ''Mend my life!'' each voice cried. But you didn't stop. You knew what you had to do, though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations, though their melancholy was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones. But little by little, as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds, and therewas a new voice which you slowly recognized as your own, that kept you company as you strode deeper and deeper into the world, determined to do the only thing you could do-- dtermined to save the only life you could save.
Mary Oliver
The Journey
as you left their voices behind, the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds,
One day you finally knew what you had to do, and beguan,
though the wind pried with its stiff fingers at the very foundations
It was already late enough, and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones.
Oliver's poetry is based on her memories of her home in Ohio and her other home in Massachusetts. Maxine Kumin calls Oliver ''a patroller of wetlands in the same way that Thoreau was an inspector of snowstorms'' and ''an indefatigable guide to the natural world.'' Oliver is also compared to Emily Dickinson because of their liking of solitude and interior monologues. Her poetry combines dark introspection with joyous release.
Entended Metaphor: The whole poem is one. Sensory Imagery: ''the wind pried''; ''the whole house began to tremble''; ''and a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones''; ''the stars began to burn through the sheets of clouds'' Personification: ''the wind pried with its stiff fingers'' Symbolism: ''a wild night, and the road full of fallen branches and stones.'' Oliver is talking about all the obstacles that bring you down in life. ''though the wind pried with its stiff fingers.'' Oliver is again talking about the people or things that have tried to keep you down. Free Verse: whole poem
