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Mary Oliver, "1945–1985: Poem For The Anniversary." Devotions

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Rosso Fiorentino, Musician Angel, c. 1520

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❥     𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒    [   𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙳 𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚂    ]   .

headcanon prompts with questions based on plants   &   what they represent in flower language .  happy roleplaying !!  ♡

abatina :   is there anything in life your muse has changed their mind about over time   (   due to becoming more educated on the topic ,   certain experiences  ,   etc .   ) ,    or that they   would   change their mind about under certain circumstances ?  

acanthus :   is your muse deceptive ,   or willing to lie or deceive to achieve certain means ?   why or why not ?   

aloe :   how does your muse handle grief ?

amaryllis :   what is something or someone that your muse takes pride in ?   how do they express that pride ?   

anemone :   how does your muse view the world ;   as a cruel   &   unforgiving place ,   a land full of wonders ,   or something in - between ?  where does that world view come from   (   what experiences ,   life lessons ,   etc .   ) ?  

angelica :   where does your muse draw inspiration in life ?   what motivates them ?

apple blossom :   how does your muse go about expressing or not expressing their sexuality ?  

bachelor’s button :   does your muse actively seek romantic companionship ,   or cherish the liberties of being single ? 

basil :   does your muse have a love - hate relationship with anyone or anything ?

bay tree :   does your muse seek glory   &   accolades ,   or do they favour a simpler ,   more personal life ?  

begonia :   how cautious is your muse ?   are they prone to noticing red flags ,   or paranoid to the point of untrusting most everyone ?   why or why not ?  

belladonna :   how does your muse respond to silence ?   do they take comfort in soundlessness ,   or seek to fill the void with noise ?   

bluebell :   does your muse learn from their past ,   or are they prone to repeating the same mistakes ?  

carnation :   what is your muse’s relationship with their gender ?   how do they express or not express this relationship ?  

chamomile :   what is your muse likely to take away from a painful experience ?   are they one to be haunted by adversity ,   or to use what they’ve gone through to become stronger ?  

chrysanthemum :   how does your muse express romantic love ?  how do they feel about love as a concept ?  

daffodil :   is your muse one to be loyal in relationships ,   or are they likely to quickly move from one bond to another ?

daisy :   did your muse ever feel as though their innocence had been lost ?   what moment in their life could be described as the end of their innocence ?  

edelweiss :   what was the bravest moment in your muse’s life ?  are they known to be courageous from then on ?  

fern :   does your muse believe in magic or cosmic forces ,   or are they more likely to think their life is ultimately a matter of their own control ?  

forget - me - not :   has your muse ever forgotten something that is or was important to them ?   are they afraid of forgetting things like that ?  

gardenia :   is your muse one to confess romantic feelings early on ,   or to conceal them for long periods of time ?  

gladiolus :   describe a moment from your muse’s life that they will never forget .

goldenrod :   does your muse believe in luck or fortune ?  why or why not ?   where do they believe these things come from ?  

heliotrope :   does your muse believe in soulmates ?

hibiscus :   how does your muse view the gentler ,   daintier things in life ?   as things worth preserving   &   caring for ,   or things only bound to wither   &   disappear ?  

holly :   how strong is your muse’s sense of intuition ?  are they aware of it ?   do they ever fear that it is only paranoia ?  

hollyhock :   how strong is your muse’s sense of ambition ?  what’s something they strive for in life ?  

hyacinth :   is your muse athletic ?   does it come naturally to them ,   or have they had to work for their physique and/or skill ?  

hydrangea :   how much does your muse value communication in their relationships with others ?  are they prone to being misunderstood ?

iris :   if your muse could convey one last message to someone they have lost or left behind ,   what would it be ?  

ivy :   what are your muse’s views on marriage ?   do they believe it is something strictly for love ,   or an institution rooted in business   &   social benefits ?   do they desire or have they desired to be married ?

lavender :   how easy is it to gain your muse’s trust ?  once their trust is broken ,   how might one go about mending it ?  

lilac :   what was your muse’s childhood like ?   how has their upbringing affected them as they’ve aged ? 

lily :   how does your muse view their mother ?  

lotus :   has your muse ever felt as though they’ve been reborn ?  have they ever desired the feeling of a fresh start ,   or a better understanding of themself and/or the world around them ?  

magnolia :   describe your muse’s relationship with nature   &   the natural world .  

marigold :   is your muse prone to jealousy ?  how might they handle envious feelings ?  

mint :   does your muse view themself as virtuous   &   moral ?  what do these words mean to them ?

nasturtium :   describe your muse’s relationship with their birthplace ,   or homeland .  

oak :   who would your muse consider the strongest person they know ?  

pansy :   does your muse often reflect on their own actions ?   do they ever think a lot about the past ,   and what they could have done differently ?

parsley :   describe a holiday your muse enjoys ,   and why they enjoy it .

peony :   what would a   ‘  happy life  ’   look like in your muse’s eyes ?

poppy :   what comforts your muse ?

rhododendron :   is your muse receptive to warnings   &   advice given by others ?

rose :   how much does your muse value other people ?   do they wish to have many friends ,   lovers ,   and/or associates ?   are they an easy person to love ?

sage :   what is your muse’s legacy ?   what do they want to be remembered for   &   what might they actually be remembered for ?  

salvia :   is your muse possessive over people or things that matter a lot to them ?  how do they express that possessiveness ,   or lack thereof ? 

snapdragon :   is your muse merciful ?  why or why not ?

southernwood :   how seriously does your muse take themself ?   do they prefer a solemn   &   intellectual atmosphere or do they delight in jokes   &   banter ?  

sunflower :   what brings your muse the most joy in life ?  

tulip :   how does your muse view people in general ?  

violet :   how does your muse respond to betrayal ?

willow :   how does your muse handle sadness   &   depression ?

zinnia :   how has the loss of fallen comrades and/or loved ones affected your muse ?   has it taught them anything or given them any new perspectives ?

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Reblog this if your muse loves their SISTER !

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Hozier - Shrike

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@grass-sharrds || prev.

The farmhand had been somewhat hunched over the edge of the table when he had spoken, dutifully slicing a pickled carrot into those thin, fleshy ribbons Mary seemed to enjoy so well. He had not been at the task long before his mind began to wander.

To the unfairness--the judgement. The suffering. Her pain...

It was divine punishment; that is what the neighbors would say. What they were taught to say. But it was beyond him still, another one of the many things he was never to question. Though question he did. And with Tabitha he could, always.

A piece of carrot, sliced much too thin, stubbornly clung to the blade.

Tabitha... For her, he had felt that it needed to be said; so he spoke it in the same way he spoke many things that weighed heavily in the blanket of his thoughts. As a truth of heart--one that plagued him endlessly during these troubled times. Times so troubled, so harsh and unforgiving, most of all to women like his dearest Tabitha.

And no sooner had the words left his lips than he heard--or perhaps he thought he had heard--what sounded like... Like the frantic rustling of cloth...?

Concern saw him turn towards his sister with a bit more desperation than was necessary, cutlery still clenched in his field-worn fist.

When he saw her, though, she was still as a deer; quiet and peering at him with the most curious of gazes, gleaming with gentle pools of light scooped up from the low hanging sun that spilled into their meager home.

It was then that he was able to take in just how small and tucked away she appeared in her sewing seat, how very kept to her side of the room she was. And the room they were in--their living and dining area--was not particularly large. Yet... He felt them worlds apart.

Suddenly she spoke, her voice far away--too far for his liking--and so withdrawn with her words that he hardly recognized them as her own. Words that laid across his skin like a dry sweat, tightening and crinkling in the corners, prickling at his nerves and causing an itch so faint he knew not whether it was truly there.

' It is you that consumes my thought. '

Those words which he had so yearned to say in that suspended moment, that he believed could turn her guarded heart to his. So that maybe she would understand.

Or maybe simply ' you ' -

If he was just in saying so. For in David's eyes she was; so incredibly brilliant. Why, she was more brilliant than most all the men he had ever come to know; both in town and through trades. Even names in the good book, he was sure Tabitha could out wit them all. Lord knows she could out wit the likes of David.

It felt so foolish now, however. To say something so inelegant--so brazen... Something so very befitting of the young farmhand who had never learned when not to speak his foolish, foolish mind.

That was until she continued.

As he listened to his sister speak, he felt a sudden wave of relief--the tacky feeling of being wrapped in regret washing away with her every breath. It was different this time; he could tell she meant what she said. There was resentment in her tone too, and he would never, not in some thousands of years, come to blame her for it. She had every right to be frustrated after all, as did young Mary. It was truly a shame, nothing divine about it.

He turned to let the knife lay next to the the slippery orange strips, before facing his sister once more.

"You have said it much better than I....quite the small town it is, to possess such a hard heart." A cold heart. Their Little Hope would see snow much sooner and for far longer than any other town he had ever seen for this very reason, or so he believed.

He began again, intending to untangle his thoughts, so that he may feel closer to her, and she to him; so that maybe she could relent to him her woes just as she had moons before, "Forgive the looseness of my tongue, but I just..."

A distracted glimpse downwards had him stopping short as he noticed the torn fabric held fast in Tabitha's grip. She had been mending a certain gash in Mary's petticoat for as long as David had been meandering about their small home. He knew, for he had been stealing glances at the young seamstress's handy work all afternoon--admiring her delicate craftsmanship--yet by the looks of it now... The tear seemed worse than before she had so much as woven her first stitch. And he could venture a guess as to why.

His eyes, brimming with a sympathy he could not help, eventually found hers and held them gingerly.

"Can you not leave it? There is tomorrow," he tried, coming up to stand by his sister. "And she has another... I would see to it that it's cleaned proper."

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"I see the way he looks at you," Mary said, a small, knowing smile on her face. ((From rightaboutmyfamily))

@rightaboutmyfamily

So glad was he to see his cheeky, young ward, teeming with girlish glee as she approached him at the well where he had been fetching water for their family's evening preparations. It was not a particularly difficult task, but he appreciated her spring-ish company nonetheless.

She came saying strange words, something David was all too accustomed to; he had not the faintest idea as to what it was that she was going on about, but she looked quite pleased with herself. It truly could be anything with this girl.

"My dear sweet Mary," he said adoringly while giving her coif an affectionate tug, "Whomever do you speak of?"

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Pray tell, dear David, why is it you seem so fond of Abraham?

"Because I very well am," he began with the most sincere, clear expression upon his face as if the answer to this particular question was as plain as the sky was blue.

"I understand to some Abraham may seem a solemnly sort, but there is such a tenderness in his heart," he said as he clasped his hands together before continuing once more, "I have seen it; when he shares with me the lines from one of the books he holds so dear, or when he asks about my family... The man has been by our side through times much troubled; yet he refuses when I say I am indebted to him."

David lowered his eyes in thought as he recalled time and time again when he had wandered his way over to his friend's home--what a comfort his company always seemed to bring.

"I find myself in his refined presence on many occasions--seeking his guidance--and he is nothing but patient with me."

He paused, a soft look creeping it's way into his features.

"Nothing but patient and gentle and so unlike the others. I cannot recall a time he has ever thought to raise a hand or voice to anyone. Not man nor woman, nor creature nor child."

Ah, always with the prattling. He felt warmth rise up his neck and cheeks as he reigned in his words with a sudden, yet subtle quickness.

"And it may be that I speak too freely. But... I mean what I say. There is much to be fond of in Abraham Alastor."

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Little Hope

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He trailed behind the quiet, shadowy man until he reached the counter. From there David simply watched as the bookkeeper perused through a nearby selection and, almost effortlessly, seemed to find exactly what he was after in no time at all.

When Abraham brought the stack of books over to the counter and went about his explanation, David leaned in burningly curious and held onto his every word, giving a nod every now and then when it was appropriate.

He eyed the wide lettering, impressed; Mary may very well have an easier time with these than that of the finer written lines of her current study material. Without much else at their disposal, Tabitha would often teach directly from the Bible; David could sympathize with her struggle.

He glanced up from the pages towards Abraham when he paused, and then as he went on, a thoughtful, speculative look graced David's features.

"If you say my sisters would do well to use these books, far be it from me to doubt your words."

This time he straightened out his back so he could address the other man properly, eyes warm and reassuring. "They are of no offense to me, Abraham. To speak truthfully, I feel it may be wrong of me to have brought this upon you so suddenly."

With a wave of his arm he gestured towards the books atop the counter as he went on, "But... I have not the words to express my thanks."

"What might you accept for temporary use of...," he trailed off, brown eyes shifting to the book nearest him. He lifted it and examined the bindings distractedly before continuing, "This one?"

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“All is indeed well,” he assured with a nod. He shifted on his feet and dipped his head as he recalled the reason he was here. “…save for that of our dear Mary.”

“Tabitha is teaching her to read, but it is clear as day she struggles and does not take well to Tabitha’s teachings.” As he spoke he looked from his friend down into his own palms as if maybe the answer to his sister’s trouble might somehow appear there.

“If God so willed it I would teach the child myself, but even heaven knows it would not befit the likes of me… My duties lie with the farm.”

Another glance towards Abraham and he allowed his hands to fall away at his sides. “Yet today work is short, and I believe Tabitha thought it best I spend my time idling elsewhere lest I mean to disturb the lesson.”

“It’s what brings me here,” he announced modestly, gesturing to himself with open arms. “You needn’t worry at all, Abraham. No ill befalls me.”

Abraham listened quietly as David spoke. It was good to hear their family was in good health. Though it was a shame to hear that Mary was struggling with her lessons. He’d know one or two children before that had some problems when it came to reading.

He nods politely, a sigh of relief that his terrible nightmare had not come true. “That is good to hear,” he said before giving a thoughtful pause. “Although I do believe I may have a few books that may aide Tabitha with Mary’s lessons.

Quietly he moved behind the counter to a shelf of thin leather bound books. He plucked three from the shelf and brought them back to the counter.

“These are very simple storybooks. She may need something easier than what your sister is trying to use to teach her,” Abraham said, flipping one open to show it didn’t have many words per page and the letters were slightly larger than in normal books. Another pause.

“I do mean no offense by offering these to you. I’m sure both of them are trying their best, but sometimes the teaching materials are the problem,” he explained, hoping David didn’t think he was calling the girls dumb by any means.

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It pained him to hear that his friend had been in this state for that long; whatever he had come down with seemed especially frightful. And here Abraham was trying to endure it on his own.

David's features softened before he spoke, "I see no burden in tending to my neighbor when he is unwell. It's just as you said; you need rest."

He could never see Abraham as a burden, healthy or not. It wasn't in his nature, nor would such a thing accurately describe the man even on his worst of days. To David he was thoughtful, kind... Easy to talk to and patient, never one to seek out needless strife. There was much more to him than meets the eye and David counted himself lucky to be in such a person's company. But a burden? Never in all his days.

"Let me help you, Abraham, tis no trouble at all," he said coming to the man's side. Looking at him now David could see how much effort it took for his friend to remain sitting up right.

He was compelled to relieve this in some way--any way--so he took a clean cloth from his person, but stopped just shy of dabbing at the sheen of sweat that seemed to highlight the other's face with warm reflections. He pulled back ever so slightly.

"May I?"

@innocencedoomed || from here

“It is quite alright,” he croaked.

Abraham made no protest as his friend entered into his home. He gently closed the door behind him before being taken over to a chair and sat down. It had been quite the struggle for him to even get out of bed, so getting off his feet was more than welcomed.

He turns away to cough once more. The poor man was already winded, panting slightly as he returned his attention to David.

“I have been bedridden since yesterday. However this illness affords me little rest. It has plagued my dreams and robbed me of much needed sleep,” he explained. Since he lived alone he couldn’t even call upon the town’s doctor to help.

“I’m glad you have been so kind as to check on my well-being. However, I do not wish to burden you with caring for me…”

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It takes longer than usual but Abraham finally answered the door. If his appearance was anything to go by, there was good reason he hadn't been at the town library. His face was quite pale, his bangs plastered this his forehead, slick with sweat. His already rough voice was hoarse as he spoke. "Hello, David. I was not expecting anyone to call upon my door this day. Were you in need of something my friend?" He asked, turning away to cough.

"I had to myself see what it was that kept you hidden away so..." It wasn't unusual for the man to make himself scarce, but David has seen even less of him as of late and thought he might stop by, if only just for a moment, to deliver some cider.

His eyes briefly trained on a bead of sweat that then rolled down a colorless jawline. If that wasn't enough cause for concern, the scratchiness of his friend's deep-toned voice, or rather even, the coughing alone certainly was.

"Forgive the roughness of my manner, but--you seem so pale. Here-" he began as he stepped beyond the threshold of his friend's home and guided him with a hand on his back to the nearest chair. He took note of the unnatural warmth present at the point of contact. "Come, let's just you sit now."

Once he had his friend seated he put aside the jars he had brought and pulled up a stool in front of the other for himself. But he didn't sit just yet. Instead he rolled up his sleeves where he stood, voice a mixture of curious concern as he spoke, "Abraham, pray tell, how long is it that you have been this way?"

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"All is indeed well," he assured with a nod. He shifted on his feet and dipped his head as he recalled the reason he was here. "...save for that of our dear Mary."

"Tabitha is teaching her to read, but it is clear as day she struggles and does not take well to Tabitha's teachings." As he spoke he looked from his friend down into his own palms as if maybe the answer to his sister's trouble might somehow appear there.

"If God so willed it I would teach the child myself, but even heaven knows it would not befit the likes of me... My duties lie with the farm."

Another glance towards Abraham and he allowed his hands to fall away at his sides. "Yet today work is short, and I believe Tabitha thought it best I spend my time idling elsewhere lest I mean to disturb the lesson."

"It's what brings me here," he announced modestly, gesturing to himself with open arms. "You needn't worry at all, Abraham. No ill befalls me."

@amiablehero​ liked for an Abraham starter!

“It is good to see you my friend. I awoke this morning from a troubled dream. I feared something ill had befallen you, but it seems those fears were unfounded,” Abraham said, looking relieved. “How have you and your sisters been fairing? I hope all is well.”