Quiet Sunday

September 11, 2011 § Leave a comment

I’ve been in love with Mary Oliver’s poetry for a while now. Even the banner up top features a word cloud from her poem – Wild Geese. Last year, my friend A wrote it out for me in beautiful cursive as a birthday gift, and I framed it and put it on my bookshelf.

Here’s another that I’ve been thinking about for a while, from the same collection.

I Worried

I worried a lot. Will the garden grow, will the rivers
flow in the right direction, will the earth turn
as it was taught, and if not, how shall
I correct it?

Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?

Will I ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.

Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
lockjaw, dementia?

Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.

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