Just remember . . .



Wild Geese
by 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 your 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 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.

Image by Peter Baer

Comments

Jinksy said…
Not sure that wild geese and my imagination make happy bedfellows...
Unknown said…
Lovely poem, Kathleen. Strange comparison, the harsh and exciting call of the goose. The world can be harsh but is it really that which attracts?
Anonymous said…
Unique perspectives.Ponds, ballfields, crossing the road, I don't recall ever seeing geese in a tree.Meanwhile the world does go on.
Renie Burghardt said…
Kathleen, we must be in a bit of a sync this morning! I posted a picture I took of same Canada Geese on a recent weekend getaway. Mine conway a sense of peace, swimming around in the spring.

Love the poem. Life is... well, full of life, things happening all the time and we're a part of it all, aren't we?

Gotta run. Going on an outing. Happy weekend!

Hugs,

Renie
Rudee said…
A beautiful post today, Kathleen. I hope you are all mended now.
Erin Davis said…
Oh, I just love Mary Oliver. Thank you.

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