My favorite poet is Mary Oliver. She is the kind of the writer that perfectly combines the words by feelings. Her words can talk.

She picks up a bunch of aromatic flowers and smiles; she steps into the deep mysterious forest and listens; she smells the spiritual magic of nature and gets infatuated. She, Mary Oliver, the daughter of the earth, extracts every piece of the nature to build a poetic world filled with her particular experiences and feelings. Born in a small town with rural environment in Ohio in 1935, Mary Oliver spent her earliest days surrounding farms and fields and the deep woodlands attracted her. That became the moment when she realized the congenial places that lurked within her heart – nature.

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