Sunday, March 18, 2012

Wild Geese

I've always loved this poem by Mary Oliver.  It somehow encapsulates loss, grief and hope by drawing on the eternal call of nature.  I'm going to give it to my friend, maybe it will help.

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 your 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.

and here she is, reading it herself...

Do you know of any good poems/words/images that help with grief?

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