Love sorrow. She is yours now, and you must
take care of what has been
given. Brush her hair, help her
into her little coat, hold her hand, 
especially when crossing a street. For, think,

what if you should lose her? Then you would be
sorrow yourself; her drawn face, her sleeplessness
would be yours. Take care, touch
her forehead that she feel herself not so

utterly alone. And smile, that she does not
altogether forget the world before the lesson. 
Have patience in abundance. And do not
ever lie or ever leave her even for a moment


by herself, which is to say, possibly, again, 
abandoned. She is strange, mute, difficult, 
sometimes unmanageable but, remember, she is a child. 
And amazing things can happen. And you may see, 


as the two of you go
walking together in the morning light, how
little by little she relaxes; she looks about her; 
she begins to grow.

From Red Bird, published by Beacon Press. Copyright © 2009 by Mary Oliver.

I love the tenderness in this poem, the way sorrow is compared to a child we must nurture and care for, and that because of our loving kindness, in time, relaxes.

Think of ways such thoughtfulness might bring about transformation within your own life.  Is there something you need to embrace in order to grow and move forward?