sol25 March 12 The Geese Stir a Memory

I was outside, the weather enticing, the promises of spring emerging, in spite of the recent onslaught of sad news. I heard them, before I saw them and my mind parachuted back to that classroom where the dreaded monthly recitation day brought so many of my classmates to tears.

Mrs. Peters, who never left her desk, believed memorizing poems would improve our memories and thus our lives. It was hard, impossible, for many of my peers and my heart still breaks for their embarrassment during their attempts,

Mrs. Peters loved high top shoes and Mary Oliver's poems.  Thus, we tried to memorize many. I am confident, in spite of making students feel inferior, she believed those lines might offer us comfort and hope at times in our lives  (she was right)

It has been decades and I only remember bits and pieces of a few poems which return as I face the inevitable losses of family and friends.  "Meanwhile, the world goes on, The wild geese are heading home again." This line transports me back to the simpler problems of 5th grade and reminds me to the reflect on the most important part of the poem, "Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine."

 

Like geese, we can not travel this journey alone.

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 Mary Oliver

I