|Image by Mikeinwayne|
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.
I needed this poem today to remind me that it is OK that I am not a superstar, that I am not burning up the world with my brilliance and that it is OK that I just am.
Every day or so, I see the wild geese flying south, honking their mournful honk, and I feel a certain sadness. A friend found me weeping in a flower garden several days ago. She asked what was wrong, and I replied that the flowers were so beautiful, and I was crying because they would be dead soon.
"But they're here now," she reminded me.
And now is all we have. I need to remember that when I worry about what my future holds.
I wish you a wonderful now, a wonderful be and a wonderful am.