April 21, 2022: Spotlight on Mary Oliver’s Poem “John Chapman”; and Background for My Poem, “Seva”

Wedding Dress and Apple Blossoms (Photo: Leslie Schultz)

There really is no one quite like Mary Oliver (1935-2019), and her book, American Primitive (Back Bay Books, April 30, 1983) contains a poem I have almost gotten by heart (but not quite!) “John Chapman” both sums up and enlarges the familar story of an American legend, Johnny Appleseed. In a similar way, for me Oliver has seeded my mind with images and new understanding of the natural world.

Mary Oliver.jpg
JOHN CHAPMAN


He wore a tin pot for a hat, in which
he cooked his supper
toward evening
in the Ohio forests.  He wore
a sackcloth shirt and walked
barefoot on feet crooked as roots.  And everywhere he went
the apple trees sprang up behind him lovely
as young girls.

No Indian or settler or wild beast
ever harmed him, he for his part honored
everything, all God's creatures!  thought little,
on a rainy night,
of sharing the shelter of a hollow log touching
flesh with any creatures there:  snakes,
raccoon possibly, or some great slab of bear.

Mrs. Price, late of Richland County,
at whose parents' house he sometimes lingered,
recalled:  he spoke
only once of woman and his gray eyes
brittled into ice.  "Some
are deceivers," he whispered, and she felt
the pain of it, remembered it
into her old age.

Well, the trees he planted or gave away
prospered, and he became 
the good legend, you do
what you can if you can; whatever

the secret, and the pain,

there's a decision:  to die,
or to live, to go on
caring about something.  In the spring, in Ohio,
in the forests that are left you can still find
sign of him:  patches
of cold white fire.


                Mary Oliver

Background for My Poem, “Seva”:

Coneflower in Full Bloom (Photo: Leslie Schult)

The word “seva” comes from Sanskrit. It is pronounced “SAVE-a.” In Yoga philosophy, it means selfless service, the kind done without any expectation of recognition, reward, or even the satisfaction of knowing it was effective.

I have been thinking about this a lot, lately, especially as regards to planetary interconnectedness. Perhaps this kind of selfless service is the most enlightened form of self-interest, too? Sometimes, I think, selfless service means getting myself out of the way so that I can see the next right thing to do and then do it!

I wish that I could have photographed the goldfinch itself, but here are two images of her temporary perch and feeding station.

Coneflower Stems (Photos: Leslie Schultz)

Happy Reading! Happy Writing! Happy Gardening! LESLIE