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.
from Dream Work by
Mary Oliver
published by
Atlantic Monthly Press
©
Mary Oliver
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