HeyJaredDr Stephanie Dowrick
Writer/social activist/mental health researcher. Books incl: Your name is not Anxious, Creative Journal Writing, Intimacy & Solitude, Forgiveness & Other Acts of Love, Seeking the Sacred, In the Company of Rilke, You Are the Future (w M.S Burrows).
- Indexed issues, last 90 days
- 17
- Latest publication
- Sep 29, 2026
- Audience
- Checking…
- Earliest in this view
- Sep 13, 2026
Latest issues
A poem a day, 272/365 (30 September 2026) (opens the original)
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The SwanMary Oliver, Global (1935 - 2019)Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedDid you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river? Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air – An armful of white blossoms, A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies, Biting the air with its black beak? Did you hear it, fluting and whistling A shrill dark music – like the rain pelting the t
A poem a day, 271/365 (29 September 2026) (opens the original)
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Wild Geese— Mary Oliver, Global (1935 - 2019)Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedYou do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the
A poem a day, 270/365 (28 September 2026) (opens the original)
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“Flare” from The Leaf and the Cloud— Mary Oliver, GlobalText within this block will maintain its original spacing when published1. Welcome to the silly, comforting poem. It is not the sunrise, which is a red rinse, which is flaring all over the eastern sky; it is not the rain falling out of the purse of God; it is not the blue helmet of the sky afterward, or the trees, or the beetle burrowing into the earth; it is not the mockingbird who, in his own cadence, will go on sizzling and clapp
A poem a day, 269/365 (27 September 2026) (opens the original)
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From “The Book of Time” (7) in The Leaf and the Cloud— Mary Oliver, GlobalText within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedEven now I remember something the way a flower in a jar of water remembers its life as a closed seed the way a flower in a jar of water steadies itself remembering itself long ago the plunging roots the gravel the rain the glossy stem the wings of the leaves the swords of the leaves rising and clashing for the rose of the sun the salt of th
A (glorious) poem a day, 268/365 (26 September 2026) (opens the original)
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From “The Book of Time” in The Leaf and the Cloud— Mary Oliver, Global.Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published I rose this morning early as usual, and went to my desk. But it’s spring, and the thrush is in the woods, somewhere in the twirled branches, and he is singing. And so, now, I am standing by the open door. And now I am stepping down onto the grass. I am touching a few leaves. I am noticing the way the yellow butterflies move together
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