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 originally by Atlantic Monthly Press © Mary Oliver
I’ve been doing a ton of writing lately, but not posting any of it on this blog, because it feels like part of a larger piece. Thank you for your patience during my small writing hiatus. It’s over now, and you’ll be seeing more of me, more regularly, here. Thank you, friends.