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.
From Dream
Work by Mary Oliver, published by Atlantic Monthly Press
© Mary Oliver