A friend recently reminded me of this poem. I was feeling a bit out of sorts and he suggested I reread Wild Geese by Mary Oliver. It was the perfect elixir. It settled me, brought me back to the surprise of spring in February and that which I—or we—miss when we forget that the world goes on—in all its tragedy yes, but in all its splendor as well.
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 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.
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5 comments:
This is so so beautiful - I had never read it. I'm definitely saving it to read often. Thank you!
That is one of my favorites myself. Thank you for reminding me of it.
Peace,
Phil
A friend sent me this poem, hand-written in her beautiful script, a few months ago. Now, as a reminder towards faith and not works, I tell myself that first line often.
It bears repeating.
I have referred to this poem during interment (gravesite) services to remind those left behind the world moves on and we can't help but be part of it... there is often a lone lawn mower in the distance, a plan overhead or the sound of cars passing by giving example that while we are consumed, others unaware. Someday the table turn.
thanks for stopping by everyone...yes, such a great poem! dan - what a great poem to read at a eulogy.
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