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Practicing Gratitude: Noticing

Sundays are for Poetry



Wild Geese
    by Mary Oliver

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.


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Mary Oliver's poems make me feel all the things. This one is wonderful.


I will never tire of reading Mary Oliver, made even more thought-provoking when you've paired the poem with a truly wonderful picture.


Thank-you Kym, really nice.


I love that poem SO MUCH. It's become iconic. I, too, love hearing Mary read it.


What a wonderful poem. It seems to me that you introduced Mary Oliver in my direction.


Beautiful. ;)


I just love Mary Oliver! Her way with words is so moving.


Ditto! The poem is especially fitting today : as I type this the sun is setting and the sky is filled with deep, dark grey clouds...onlything missing are the geese...



This is one of my favorites to read at this time of year; it makes me think of autumn gives me feelings of nostalgia for my childhood home.


This is one of the best. Thanks for sharing!


Beautiful Kym - this is one of my favorites, too - what a treat to see it anew this morning, thank you!

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