by David Whyte from The House of Belonging (Many Rivers Press)
Above the mountains
the geese turn into
the light again
painting their
black silhouettes
on an open sky.
Sometimes everything
has to be
enscribed across
the heavens
so you can find
the one line
already written
inside you.
Sometimes it takes
a great sky
to find that
first, bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.
Sometimes with
the bones of the black
sticks left when the fire
has gone out
someone has written
something new
in the ashes
of your life.
You are not leaving
you are arriving.
My apologies to any early bird readers for the late posting this morning. Although I was awakened at 6ish by the honking of geese flying over the house (and thus another geese poem for this morning), it's one of those rainy mornings in the DC area where only the need for a cup of tea drives me from the comfort of my bed. In fact, I think an upcoming poem will celebrate staying in bed, so a bit of a teaser there . . .
But for today, an oft quoted David Whyte poem. Yesterday thoughts of geese lingered throughout the day and I found myself wondering about the role of geese in some of these poems-- are they prophets or sacraments? Anglican divine Richard Hooker defines sacrament as an "outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace." While this is a theological definition my brain comprehends and I can get behind, when I read David Whyte's words, I understand it in my bones and know it to be true.
What outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace are true for you?
What is the line written inside you?
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