Ponderings

Often, when I am facing a moment, or days, of thinking, "I cannot write anymore.  I have absolutely nothing to say," I invariably will find a poem that lets me breathe a little easier.   David Whyte is one of those poets whose work always helps me to feel a little saner.  I probably have shared this poem before, but that happens from time to time.  When I was reintroduced to this poem a couple of days ago, I found myself thinking that much of the wisdom and beauty of growing older comes from acceptance.  Acceptance of who we are.  Accepting who God is (thereby accepting who God might not be).  Accepting it all.  Poetry helps those times when we fear we just can't measure up.   Poetry helps us to measure down.  Down to who are really are: beings living on the solid ground of love.           

 

That day I saw beneath dark clouds

the passing light over the water

and I heard the voice of the world speak out,

I knew then, as I had before

life is no passing memory of what has been

nor the remaining pages in a great book

waiting to be read.      

 

It is the opening of eyes long closed.

It is the vision of far off things

seen for the silence they hold.

It is the heart after years

of secret conversing

speaking out loud in the clear air.

 

It is Moses in the desert

fallen to his knees before the lit bush.

It is the man throwing away his shoes

as if to enter heaven

and finding himself astonished,

opened at last,

fallen in love with solid ground.  

  

                                    - David Whyte