In the wake of Mary Oliver's recent passing, Connor and Jack delve into one of her most popular poems, "Wild Geese." Connor is dazzled by the way the poem moves, and Jack can't help bringing Tom Petty into the conversation.
Read the poem below.
More on Mary Oliver, here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/mary-oliver
Find us on facebook at: facebook.com/closetalking
Find us on twitter at: twitter.com/closetalking
You can always send us an e-mail with thoughts on this or any of our previous podcasts, as well as suggestions for future shows, at [email protected].
Wild Geese
By: Mary Oliver
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.
Read the poem below.
More on Mary Oliver, here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poets/mary-oliver
Find us on facebook at: facebook.com/closetalking
Find us on twitter at: twitter.com/closetalking
You can always send us an e-mail with thoughts on this or any of our previous podcasts, as well as suggestions for future shows, at [email protected].
Wild Geese
By: Mary Oliver
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.
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