Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

    I was walking home on tuesday and thought the sky was beautiful. Falling asleep in its own quiet way. Reminding me that the world does not owe us a thing, but simply does its job each day - spinning in its own orbit, giving us the beauty which we must learn to see.

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