Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.
– Mary Oliver, The Uses of Sorrow
“I Worried”Mary Oliver, Swan: Poems and Prose Poems
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?
WillI ever be able to sing, even the sparrows
can do it and I am, well,
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism,
FinallyI saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,