Wild

 

Dear Internet,

I had a wildly magnificent day yesterday.  The kind of day where everything just clicked.  Like the universe was writing in big bold underlined letters.  And I got it, all for it, and it was good.

This morning as I was drying my hair and putting on my face.  I thought of this poem.  This wonderful poem that says all the things yesterday said to me.

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.

Do you hear that Internet?  You DO NOT HAVE to be GOOD!  You DO NOT have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting! 

Isn't that amazing? 

All you have to do is let your body love what it loves.

Just let your body love what it loves, Internet!

Sigh.

When I opened the book this morning there was a scrap of paper tucked behind that poem.  It was from when I was in Paris.  Sitting in the garden.  Having just made love.  Written on it was...

a little girl filling up a water bottle.  the pump overflowing.  the scent of summer.  something about the way he looks at me.  a dog.  applause.  i want to freeze this moment.  this is paris.  all of this.  running.  the hum of conversations in the grass.  belonging.  lazy days where everyone soaks up the sun.  forgetting all obligations.  just being in the moment.  laughter.  i can never recreate this.  nor do i want to.  it is a single moment.  all my own.  birds.  children.  the market.  his smile.  purple-his shirt.  eating grapes.  the taste of summer in my mouth.  a ball stuck in the tree.  a virgina wolfe kind of day.

-The Paper Doll wishes for more Virgina Wolfe kind of days

*Image is Maxfield Parrish's Wild Geese