greek

i am standing in my backyard. it has rained all morning. at 7:30 there was a lightning strike so close, so powerful, the thunderclap woke me up and i thought for sure i must be dying, now.

everything is wet and dewy and that beautiful bright color that happens after rain.

the snails have stopped eating my basil: for now. there are cookies cooling on my counter, like most sundays.

i am waiting for something, but i don't know what. that's a lie. i am waiting for a change, something i want to anticipate, but it cannot be anticipated.

i am waiting for the other shoe to drop.

i am going to take a walk now, until it gets dark. i will walk all over town for hours and i will spend some time in my head.

i feel like a greek statue.

----

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.

mary oliver