Hill in High Summer, oil on Arches oil painting paper by Thimgan Hayden
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 I gave it up. And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.
As usual, Mary Oliver has perfectly expressed a feeling that I understand intimately.
me enjoying painting outside barefoot in the summer
