e.e. cummings
since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;;
wholly to be a fool
while Spring is in the world
my blood approves,
and kisses are a better fate
than wisdom
lady I swear by all flowers. Don’t cry
–the best gesture of my brain is less than
Your eyelids’ flutter which says
we are for each other: then
laugh, leaning back in my arms
for life’s not a paragraph
And death i think is no parenthesis
Mi novio sent me the first lines of this poem today. I had read it for the first time about a year ago y me encanto. I loved to be reminded. There is no written mention of wine, but we can imagine a taste of wine that would go along with such a a poem. What wine would you choose? Elisabet
Wild Geese
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 your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine
Meanwile 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.
Shared Stories