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.
This past Tuesday, late in the afternoon, I noticed something that seemed odd outside a few fields over! A group of small black dots in the snow.
An icy squaw was in progress, so visibility was nil.
The Binocs brought them closer, showing a group of grounded geese, bedded in the snow. I have never seen this before.
I zoomed in with the camera, and snapped a few....
I went out to move some snow, and as I was coming back inside, I heard them honking as the took off on "runway #1"! Later, over a cup of hot chocolate, I looked out again, aI noticed a single, solitary "black dot" in the snow. It appeared to be a lone goose, who had "finished the race".