Wild Geese
On Thursday I shared a few of the poems of Billy Collins, one of my favorite poets. Today a poem from another favorite poet, Mary Oliver. Oliver is the writer of the luminous and inspiring “Summer Day,” and what I like about her poetry is that it always feels honest, like she is sharing with us some insight or even secret about life that she has figured out and can’t wait to tell us about. It always feels like a big secret – something that matters and makes a difference – and yet, or perhaps for that very reason, she can only tell it to us by naming that truth in and among the ordinary things of our daily lives and the natural world: rain, trees, wild geese.
In this poem, called “Wild Geese,” Oliver assures us that we don’t need to be perfect to be worthy of dignity and love and so we don’t have to go to extremes of penitence or contrition for not measuring up. We are acceptable as we are, and we discover that as we draw together with others, sharing our secrets and receiving those of others. And as we do, the world goes on, not in a sense that it is indifferent to us, but rather that in its familiar rhythms and patterns we find that the world and its creator already has a place for us.
Below the text of the poem is a recording of Oliver reading her poem. I’d suggest you read it yourself first, moving toward your own understanding of it as you try out the words for yourself, and then listen to hers. But however you approach this poem, I hope you enjoy it, and know that you, too, have a place in the family of all things.
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.
Mary Oliver, from Dream Work
Notes: 1) Thanks to Brain Pickings for highlighting this recording. 2) If you are receiving this post by email, you may need to click on the title of the post at the top of the page in order to listen to this recording.
So, never having read or heard these poems, I listened first with my eyes closed. I much preferred my on images, yet I think the artist’s illustrations will last longer than my own. (There is an edginess that the artists have that my imagination does not.)
Either with or without illustrations, I do enjoy hearing the author’s voice.
One thing more. I sense the sound effects and audience responses strongly influence the mood (or tone) of my imagination.
Thanks, David.