Tags
Despair, inspiration, Mary Oliver, Nature, poem, poetry, Solace, Wild Geese
I often turn to the poetry of Mary Oliver when seeking solace, when trying to negotiate a path through the cares and sorrows of this world and its grace and beauty.
“Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine,” she says, simply.
As if she and me and despair are old friends. As if despair, with all its sharp, broken edges is as common as grass, as remarkable as wild geese shrieking across the sky. Just another thing among the many that make up a life.
Not to be avoided. And not to let drown out the other voices that call to us, or whisper up from deep within.
Here’s one of my favorites.
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 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
Mary Oliver, just the ticket…
Dear flower-sister…just posted something around the same time as yourself. Perhaps it might bring a smile to your face.
Thank you Laura! Your posts and comments always make me smile.
Thanks for sharing this Deborah. I love the poems of Mary and your reflections perfectly introduce the poem and remind us to relax into the family of life.
Happy to share, thanks Brad.
One of my favorites, too!
You cannot go wrong with reading and sharing poetry written by Mary Oliver. I love her work. This is one of my favourites. It’s timely too in reminding me to lift my eyes to higher things. And in acknowledging how we’re all prone to darker days. Despair has haunted me for months and been hard to shake off sometimes. But then the heavy ache of life is a great vehicle for poetry to speak solace to us, whether we write our own or read the offerings of more gifted souls. Thanks, Deborah. xo 💜
This poem is one of my favorites of all.