The geese are on their way back up north. It sort of seems like the stragglers just left, but it is nice to see their V formation in the pink evening sky. I wanted to get a video of them flying and overhead honking, but no luck.
Kellie read this poem in yoga class this week. It is one of my most favorite Mary Oliver poems. Kellie had us focus throughout the class on letting "the soft animal of your body love what it loves.." which gave the poem whole new meaning.
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.
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