Poetry Sunday: I Worried by Mary Oliver
Are you a worrier? I confess I am at times even though I know full well that it will not change anything or make anything better. It seems simply inbred and uncontrollable. Mary Oliver addressed that in this poem.
I Worried
by Mary Oliver
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 had a way of capturing everything she wanted to say so beautifully. Unerringly too. Perfection was standard form for her.
ReplyDeleteWell stated and very true.
DeleteI worry too much (although not about the rivers or the earth turning). Thank you, Mary Oliver!
ReplyDeleteWorrying really is a waste of our time and energy and yet it seems impossible to completely rid ourselves of it.
DeleteAs someone who has GAD, I worry over everything! It's simply what I do. So this poem hits all too strong.
ReplyDeleteMary Oliver is always spot-on with her poetic observations.
DeleteI worry too much, too, even though I do try not to. I'll have to print this poem out and put it where I can see it everyday so I remember to stop worrying and sing instead. :)
ReplyDeleteIt sometimes seems that the more we try not to worry the more we actually worry. But Mary was right - we should just give it up and sing.
DeleteI am a worrier through and through but my pastor reminds me that worrying is like praying for something you don't want, so...I'm working on that.
ReplyDeleteThat's an interesting way of looking at it.
DeleteRight?? When he said that to me I was like, "whoa..." and it made sense. So I try not to give any energy to my worries. We manifest what we focus on, for good or bad!
DeleteSuch a good poem.
ReplyDelete"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."
One day...
I do love Oliver's poetry. It often seems she is speaking directly to/for me.
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