A return to poetry

In the midst of NaNoWriMo, I got a sudden urge to sit somewhere quiet and sunlit and immerse myself in poetry.  It's been awhile.  The urge has actually been there for a long time, but I've mostly ignored it.  Then, while listlessly trying to up my word count, the urge got a bit rude and said, "Stop fannying about with this bullshit and go read a poem NOW."  I listened.  And discovered this one.  It was like being welcomed home.

9th February ~ ooooh, a stone!

Listening to Mozart's minuet, symphony no. 39 in e-flat.  Goosebumps from my toes to my ears, knowing that Thomas Hardy heard this too, the very same notes.  Time travel on sound waves.

Concertgebouw Orchestra – Symphony No. 39 In E-Flat, K. 543: III. Minuet - Trio (link to Spotify)

A Poem

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.

- from Dream Work by Mary Oliver

what have you lost?

I'm reading this book of poems at the moment.  It makes an unexpectedly welcome change to reading fiction.  A change of pace, a change of rhythm, a deepening.  Like stepping into a large space and hearing everything settle into silence.