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 gave it up.

And took my old body

and went out into the morning,

and sang.

Mary Oliver – I Worried.