“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
via: http://www.beingsilentlydrawn.com/search/label/Mary%20Oliver
Advertisements
Beautiful
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you dear friend! I am glad you enjoyed it! 🙂
LikeLike
Thanks for sharing 💖🤗
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for visiting and for your comment! 🙂 ❤
LikeLiked by 1 person
How beautiful
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you Margaret! Yes, I found the poem liberating, worrying does not lead to anything… 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, so much information out there
LikeLiked by 1 person
Love,Love,love this poem Amira!!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh that’s great!!!! So happy you enjoyed it so much! 🙂 ❤
LikeLike