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  • I have never ventured very far into writing poetry. However, I do enjoy reading poetry...and experiencing its unique and fire-y power.

    Mary Oliver is a poet I truly treasure. She speaks to me. I can read her poems over and over.

    Each time I read one of my favorites, it seems like the first time even as it is also an old friend.

    Here's one of them...

    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 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.


    [Photo by Barbara, Bassett Creek, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Fall 2010]
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