WILD GEESEby Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
3 comments:
Jane, you know how I love this poem. It's just beautiful. I keep a copy you sent me in my day planner and when I read it, I think of you. Vee is playing 4 tags and tagged me. Stop by my blog and play! Love, Kathy
Hello from New York! Nice to meet you! I found you on Vee's comments.
Very pretty poem! All the geese are migrating back north and they use a local park I walk in every morning as a layover place to rest and eat. I love to see and hear them.
Pat
Hello, I absolutely love this poem. WOW! It has so much meaning and feeling behind it. I can feel the emotions rising inside myself as I read it. Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful writing with me. This is something I really needed to read at this very moment.
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