What a powerful and wonderful poem ❤️

THE WILD IRIS
by Louise Glück

At the end of my suffering
there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth…

#themarginalia #mariapopova #LouiseGlück
https://youtu.be/8waoQWf9aL8
https://www.themarginalian.org/2024/04/29/louse-gluck-wild-iris/