Flying Away Home

When I came home yesterday, a flock of Dusky Canada geese flew over my driveway.  Last spring, at the worst of times for me, the duskies left for their Alaskan home, and somehow I knew when they left again, my heart would leave with them.  And there they were, circling overhead, and I remembered this poem, shared by dear Kristi with me:

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 ~

Thank-you for all of the kind thoughts and love.
The advice is perfect timing, I don't think it
would have made sense to me months ago.
You guys are awesome!  Les