a dancing sister friend in the UK, Louisa, turned by on to the wonderful poet, Mary Oliver, and I found this poem online, thought to share with you this morning.
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 about mine
Meanwhile, the world goes on
Meanwhile, the sun and the clear pebbles of rain are
moving across landscapes, over the praries 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.