deeper things...a poem

I awoke this morning with a variety of feelings. I couldn't wait to take my walk...and I was out the door around 5AM...and I realized for the first time that birds dont just wake up early and noisily, but I swear they wake up happy. They were absolutely delighted with this morning. I also had the thought that these birds are not just birds, they are neighbors. They live in the 'hood. They are the same birds I will hear tomorrow...and they wake up and introduce themselves every day...I am going to pay attention...is that loud one (see how well I know my birds by their calls!!) going to be on that corner tomorrow, and the one with the soft sweet song up the block going to tell me "I'm here" again as well? These birds...

I was also aware of some painful feelings... what of the one who somewhere heard different news yesterday? who heard...I'm sorry...there's nothing we can do...what of the friend who has already been through so much treatment and decides to take matters into her own hands and forge ahead on a different path. It filled me with fear, and then with anger...God...does it have to be this way?

I seem to read poems the day before they make sense to me....so...I don't say "aha! I can relate"...but rather..."what will this poem bring me tomorrow..."

and here are a few verses from a poem I read last night ...and the variety of feelings they brought me this morning are difficult to express.


"I thought
this is the good day
you could
meet your love,

this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.

This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next."

and this

"This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life."





Here is the whole poem...written by David Whyte



THE HOUSE OF BELONGING

I awoke
this morning
in the gold light
turning this way
and that

thinking for
a moment
it was one
day
like any other.

But
the veil had gone
from my
darkened heart
and
I thought

it must have been the quiet
candlelight
that filled my room,

it must have been
the first
easy rhythm
with which I breathed
myself to sleep,

it must have been
the prayer I said
speaking to the otherness
of the night.

And
I thought
this is the good day
you could
meet your love,

this is the black day
someone close
to you could die.

This is the day
you realize
how easily the thread
is broken
between this world
and the next

and I found myself
sitting up
in the quiet pathway
of light,

the tawny
close grained cedar
burning round
me like fire
and all the angels of this housely
heaven ascending
through the first
roof of light
the sun has made.

This is the bright home
in which I live,
this is where
I ask
my friends
to come,
this is where I want
to love all the things
it has taken me so long
to learn to love.

This is the temple
of my adult aloneness
and I belong
to that aloneness
as I belong to my life.

There is no house
like the house of belonging.