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More poems by Mary OliverMary Oliver | Print this page.Print | View and Write CommentsComments (15) | Books by Mary OliverBooks by Mary Oliver

Wild Geese

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.

Added: 2 Mar 2002 | Last Read: 23 Apr 2017 11:26 PM | Viewed: 27642 times

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URL: http://plagiarist.com/poetry/3192/ | Viewed on 23 April 2017.
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