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Mary
Oliver
Tuesday April 22, 2008
"The Writer’s Story": 4PM, Scandinavian Cultural Center
Initially, only PLU students with ID's will be permitted to the event. At 3:45, all remaining seats will be open to faculty and staff.
Reading: 7:30 PM, Lagerquist Concert Hall of the Mary Baker Russell Music Center
PLU students may pick up their tickets (one per student ID) at the
concierge desk in the University Center, starting Monday February 18th.
Upon entering the event, students will be asked to show their ID card with
their ticket.
PLU Faculty and Staff may pick up their tickets (two per ID) at the
concierge desk in the University Center. Upon entering the event, faculty
and staff must present their ID to admit themselves and their one
ticket-holding guest.
All tickets will be available on a first-come, first-serve basis. If
seating is still available after April 1, tickets will be sold to the
general public at $20.00 apiece. If available, these tickets may be
purchased at the concierge desk in the University Center. When tickets are
no longer available, we will post an announcement on this website. |
Mary Oliver’s poetry, with her lyrical connection to the natural world, has firmly established her in the highest realm of American poets. She is renowned for her evocative and precise imagery, which brings nature into clear focus, transforming the everyday world into a place of magic and discovery. As poet Stanley Kunitz has said, “Mary Oliver’s poetry is fine and deep; it reads like a blessing. Her special gift is to connect us with our sources in the natural world, its beauties and terrors and mysteries and consolations.” She has received countless distinctions, including the Pulitzer Prize and the National Book Award, and continues to influence generations of younger poets, as well as adding to her legions of loyal readers with each eagerly awaited new book.
The Summer Day
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
“The gift of Oliver’s poetry is that she communicates the beauty she finds in the world and makes it unforgettable.”
— The Boston Globe
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