Poetry Friday

We moved to a new home earlier this year and it’s closer to, as they say, civilization.  Our old home bordered a nature preserve and attracted all sorts of flying lovelies.  In our new place, it’s more about kids playing basketball in our driveway and cars driving, which makes my children happy.  I’m happy too, but I miss the birds.  One notable exception to my lack of birds is my abundance of geese.  Just down the hill from us is a golf course with a lake.  I think because of that we are in their flight pattern.  I know this statement is ineloquent, but dang, those birds have been honking it up lately.  They in fly low v’s and spend a lot of breath encouraging their leaders to keep on flapping.  Of course, since I always think birds are messengers, they reminded me to post this classic. 
Wild Geese
~ Mary OliverYou 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.

Dave Croker [CC BY-SA 2.0 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)], via Wikimedia Commons

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