I live in a house on the edge of a town. My yoga studio faces the wooded cemetery full of birdsong and stillness. As I sit to meditate I see the filtered light coming through the trees and as I close my eyes my sense of hearing takes over to listen to the joyous...
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Wild Geese by Mary Oliver 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...