#mary oliver #wild geese #poetry #poem #yoga
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.
Wild Geese, Mary Oliver (via havisham)
a poem our lovely yoga instructor used to read us in Ithaca.
—y
(via thenightingaleable)
#yoga #poetry #powere
We’re going together, like traffic and weather.: Mary Oliver, "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 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.
Our yoga teacher used to read this to us during savasana, I love this poem so, so much. Pretty sure we’ve blogged it before but IDC
#yoga #savasana #poetry #william carlos williams #so good
William Carlos Williams
Emma read us a poem today in our mighty yoga class (SO HOT) and it reminded me in savasana about how much I respect and want to be like WCW. He is just so amazingly deft at his word choice in his creation of imagery, and that is something I consistently struggle with in my writing. This poem, much like my favorite of his “The Red Wheelbarrow” is short and sweet and full of an image so ripe you just want to eat it. The Hurricane The tree lay down —kendra
William Carlos Williams
on the garage roof
and stretched, You
have your heaven,
it said, go to it.
Emma read a poem to us before savasana.
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.
