I am reading “Earth Poems,” by William Stafford, and also some of Mary Oliver. Like Wendell Berry, they celebrate the natural world, usually the not-so-grand things, sometimes the grand we take for granted. They locate our sources of wisdom, self-awareness, and humility in what is farthest from our own created disorder. “Earth Dweller” captures the spirit in its last lines:
The world speaks everything to us,
It is our only friend”
It is an exquisite ache to be in creation, once perfect in complexity, harmony, beauty, and mystery, and know that it still holds all these enamoring qualities, yet wounded, even dying, at our hands. Scripture affirms the very goodness of it all, of course; also, the curse, the brokenness we have brought on all.
The heavens, so far beyond our reach and wounding, still declare the glory of God. Maybe this is our deepest sin, that whatever comes within our reach – sea, land, air, the creatures of the earth, one another – we are bound to harm. Every bearer of God’s image, we fracture in acts of selfish irreverence, which is blasphemy. Even our love, unlike His, consumes its objects.
The poets still see glory in created order, its mystery and depth; God’s glory is inextinguishable. But the scars we leave underlie every poem, else why would glory be remarkable? Their reverence and delight in the natural world are always, if only implied, against a background of our tragic defacing and interruption of it all.
But when we treat creation well, as good stewards rather than defilers, it is as though we’re mending and polishing a precious mirror, work worth doing. In the restored reflection we find the earth is not our only friend, but as a good friend points us to the One from whom all friendship proceeds.
If, though, we carry the curse within us, if everything we touch is at risk, how can we do this work to which we are called? This is the glory so many poets overlook. If we are to heal and not wound, the wound in us must first be healed. The aching they uncover in us tells us we have need of healing before we dare to heal. So, they return to earth-friend, but the faithful earth refuses their worship and points, always points. Creation necessitates Creator. See the glory in the earth and give glory to its Source, Who desires so deeply that we join Him in this work that He did for us all that was necessary for our healing. And He left for us, imprinted in creation, the image also of that truth – the seed that dies and lives, the sacrifice of one for many, the renewal of seasons, the connectedness of all things.