Sunday, July 02, 2006

A poem by Mary Oliver

I am always amazed at the images that can be created by just a few words that simply exist next to one another. Alone they are devoid, but together, take they you places and cause you to wander an unexpected terrain.
Wild Geese

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.


Peg said...

I love the poem.....Why Reacher as your name??

Peg said...

You are not a very faithful blogger. Why no new poems and thoughts?