Poetry: Discovering A Wild & Precious Life

It started with a line of poetry. 

I was sitting outside in my backyard, sun over my shoulders, reading Mary Oliver’s Summer Day when I stumbled across the line that quietly rearranged everything: “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”

I froze. More accurately, my mind froze. I’d always treated “purpose” as a distant landmark, a destination I’d eventually arrive at. But her question felt like a nudge. Not what do you want someday, but what do you want now?

The answer surprised me. Science. Nature. Animals. But also poetry. 

I’d always wanted to write a book. Not a dense volume or a polished project. Something that felt alive. But I’d been waiting for the “right time,” which (spoiler alert) never shows up with a welcome banner. Mary Oliver reminded me that noticing the world as it is matters more than waiting for the perfect version of it.

I tilted my head back and looked at the oak tree behind my house. Tall. Steady. Quiet. And suddenly, it felt like a mirror: of where I’d been, who I was, and maybe, where I was going. So I wrote. 

I wrote a poetry collection, filled with quiet allusions and curious oddities. At its heart was an oak tree, discovering what it means to live her wild and precious life. Her journey reflected the same lessons I’ve learned from birds in flight, trails beneath my feet, and the small, wild moments hiding in the natural world.

Through the oak tree’s story, I started to better understand my own. I’ve always been drawn to nature and questions: the kind that can’t be Googled. The kind that requires observing, reflecting, and sometimes sitting still under a tree. 

Poetry became my way of paying attention. Of slowing down. Of finding the extraordinary inside every day. I’ve learned that wonder isn’t something we chase. It's something we return to. Over and over again. All we have to do is look.