Calling to You, Like the Wild Geese, Waterworks Park, Belfast
These goslings hatched out a few weeks ago.
The goslings grazing among the daises.
"Wild Geese" by Mary Oliver is a wonderful poem.
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 poem by Michael Longley mentions greylag geese flying in regular formation:
Image
The last day of the year:
Greylag geese are flying
In regular formation
Along the shoreline, sky-shapes,
An image of poetry.
Greylag geese are flying
In regular formation
Along the shoreline, sky-shapes,
An image of poetry.
The goslings are cute.
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