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 wold 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.