Favorite poem

I discovered last night, after posting, that there's a website devoted to NaBloPoMo. And there are suggested daily writing prompts. Which is handy because I was wondering what the heck I was going to write about everyday.

Today's prompt is to write about your favorite poem. And if you don't have one, to write about why.

My earliest full memory of a poem is Casey At The Bat. I was in fourth grade, or maybe sixth, and our class had to memorize the poem and recite it during a school assembly. I did not enjoy the exercise. Nor did I connect with the material. But, there were sparks. Which is why I remember it so clearly.

I love taking part in choral expression. I've known this about myself in respect to singing, but until now, I didn't realize the same goes for recitation. The idea extends itself and I recognize my affection for chanting in a group.

In the thirty plus years since Casey At The Bat touched my life, I have not sought out poetry, for the most part. But, poems (and poets) have found me.

One such poem is Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver. I tend to like poems, songs and non-fiction writing that carry on its shoulders the mantle of the natural world. It's a vital point of arrival and departure. Of connection.

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 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 world 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.