Books by the old Leather Chair

  • Snow In The Summer
  • My Bible
  • The Power of Silence
  • What Comes Next and to Like It
  • Encore Provence
  • A Year in Provence

Thursday, April 18, 2019

I Worried



I Worried


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 be able to sing, even the sparrows
can o it and I am, well,
helpless.

Is my eyesight failing, 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 up.  And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.

Mary Oliver



I read this poem
early this morning
and could add many to the list of worrying
but will let them go.






4 comments:

Wisewebwoman said...

Worry is a complete waste of time.

False
Experience
Appearing
Real

is a good acronym. Worry=Fear.

Worry never happens if we live in the moment.

Lovely poem. Stay present dear Ernestine. You have so much yet to give.

XO
WWW

Sallysmom said...

Love that poem.

lil red hen said...

Wow! This poem fits me perfectly! Sometimes it seems I just look for something to worry about.xoxo

PatK said...

A good message for all of us, and a beautiful way to remind us of it. Mary Oliver’s wisdom lives on each time you share her words.