Friday, October 12, 2012

I Worried


 I Worried,  by Mary Oliver

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.

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