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.
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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.
http://www.onbeing.org/blog/mary-oliver-reads-wild-geese/5966
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