a real poem for once: You do not have to be good

a real poem for once: You do not have to be good. This is Mary Oliver. She has the real shit.

She goes out in nature every day and listens to the world beneath words.

She translates.

Here's what she heard one day:

Listen, listen, listen.

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 ~

My feelings: I love Mary Oliver.
I feel soft and free when I read this, as if someone understands.
I am weary of being good, even the being good of "not being good."
I am
Grateful, I have found my gang, in which the soft animal of my body can love what it loves, and the soft ocean of my heart can swish and swirl in many and all directions, not necessarily knowing where it's going, but reaching more and more connection, finding the joyous scary peaceful thrill in the family of all things.
ALL things.
love,
Chris