Poetry…

Sweet Darkness by David Whyte

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

 When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.
 
Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.
 
There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.
 
The dark will be your womb
tonight.
 
The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.
 
You must learn one thing:
the world was made to be free in.
 
Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.
 
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
 
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
 
is too small for you.
Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
 
You do not have to be good. 
You do not have to walk on your knees 
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. 
You only have to let the soft animal of your body 
love what it loves. 
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. 
Meanwhile the world goes on. 
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain 
are moving across the landscapes, 
over the prairies and the deep trees, 
the mountains and the rivers. 
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, 
are heading home again. 
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, 
the world offers itself to your imagination, 
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting–
over and over announcing your place 
in the family of things.
 

Hope 

Your body will have the final say.

But don’t fear—

the pining is nothing more

than a biological imperative

to be touched

stroked

known

seen.

You grow weary

of the multitude

of life lessons

whose similarities never fail to amaze.

Mother/Father insecurities

leave you powerless

and mix with

desire

disgust

fear

hope.

You hold tight to hope,

fearing letting go will make you

hard

bitter

a haggard used-to-be.

What you don’t know

is hope can make you soft,

a woman-child,

tender to the touch

vulnerable to harm

where a gentle thrust

can go in deep,

deflate you

from the inside-

out.

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