Wild geese

I read the below poem and thought of all us survivors out there, especially those that I know personally and the ones that find me here on my blog. I thought it was important to share and I wrote a response to it.

Wild Geese
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.
-Mary Oliver

A response:
We are all here learning that we to not have to be good, learning we do not have to drag on our knees forever repenting our pasts. We are learning to sit with ourselves, to be in our bodies and have a respectful and open relationship. We are learning to hear our minds with patience and empathy and yet the worlds we live in continue on during our pause. Amongst ourselves we are sharing our pain, our pasts and struggles. We keep our eyes open to the triumphs and small blessings. We fight with eagerness to regain our freedom and yet the world continues on each day while ours comes to screeching halts many times. Shopping stores are still open, our friends and families continue to go to work, the rain pours and the sun shines. Our minds and bodies work to purge the gritty undertones of the past and we look into the future with timidness like a child jumping into the deep end for the first time. We can paint our future any way we see it; with a fine brush and bright, sharp points or we can use watercolors watching them blend and fuse together with soft beauty. It’s out there, waiting for us, beckoning for us to rejoin where we came from and where we are meant to be.

Questions

How many inches in a year?
What makes a zero disappear?
And which is older, there or here?

How long must circles spin around?
What stars are in the lost and found?
Why can't a mirror make a sound?

What language is the letter 'Y'?
Who taught the hummingbird to fly?
When you are dreaming where am I?
-Stephen Mitchell