Big Hill

By bighill

Goose Feathers!

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
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,
but meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun
and soft petals of rain
are moving across the landscape
over the prairies
and the deep trees,
the mountains and rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese high
in the clear 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 again
announcing your place
in the family of things.

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