Hope is a thing with feathers, That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all.-Emily Dickenson

Tuesday, September 18, 2007

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.


1 comment:

T Gonzales said...

whoever you are,
no matter how lonely,
you'll need to get in the left lane.

indeed.

thanks for sharing the other night, and for being there tonight, too...