The poet Mary Oliver is speaking to me so often recently, and I feel an affinity towards her. These lines from her poem WHISTLING SWANS in the book Devotions: A Read with Jenna Pick appeals to me:
Rumi said, there is no proof of the soul.
But isn’t the return of spring and how it
springs up in our hearts a pretty good hint?
My longing for spring is one of those hints at the enchantment of the world.
However, if there were no autumn/fall, would we lose the ability to long for such a scene? Longing can be seen as a recognition of the sacred in absence. It reminds us, like Oliver’s poetry does, that life’s deeper meaning often lies in its fleeting beauty, its contrasts, and its ability to make us yearn for connection, understanding, and belonging. In that way, longing isn’t just a response to the world—it’s a profound way of participating in its mystery.
Of course, we can look at these things through a psychological lens, or rationalise them, but I think that it does us good now and then to see the way that beauty affects us, and how our imagination has us drift off into faerie land. It may be an escape, but now and then an escape probably does us good.
