soft and slow

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.

~Mary Oliver

where happiness meets uncertainty….

inquiry for today~ when the heart is charmed by the sweet day…

wounded hope

Just keep breathing

Just keep smiling

Keep your chin held high

Just keep laughing

Then though you’re dying

Just keep keeping it inside

Cross your fingers

Hide your secrets

Walk by standing tall

Then close the door

Give up the war

And let the teardrops fall.

~c.k.

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