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 ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading 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 it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.
I Worried by Mary Oliver
Beautiful. Thank you Liz.
Posted by: Steph | July 05, 2011 at 11:06 AM
Awesome Liz....
Posted by: Sarah S. - redlinedesign | July 05, 2011 at 03:13 PM
{sigh}
Posted by: Swirly | July 06, 2011 at 08:09 AM
Love this. Thanks.
Cynthia
http://coffeeonthepatio.com
http://www.cynthiasblog.com
Posted by: Cynthia at Coffee On The Patio | July 08, 2011 at 02:45 PM