Monday, September 28, 2020

The Poet: Mary Oliver, “I Worried”

 “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.”

- Mary Oliver

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