Waiting… still

You don’t run down the present, pursue it with baited hooks and nets.
You wait for it, empty-handed, and you are filled.


Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

This Sunday morning

 

it is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in the broken world

Mary Oliver


to live alone…

IT HAPPENS TO THOSE WHO LIVE ALONE

It happens to those
who live alone
that they feel sure
of visitors
when no one else
is there.

until the one day
and the one
particular
hour
working in the
quiet garden,

when they realize
at once,
that all along
they have been
an invitation
to everything
and every kind
of trouble

and that life
happens by
to those who
inhabit
silence

like the bees
visiting
the tall mallow
on their legs of gold,
or the wasps
going from
door to door
in the tall forest
of the daisies.

I have my freedom
today
because nothing
really happened

and nobody came
to see me,
only the slow
growing of the garden
in the summer heat

and the silence
of that
unborn life
making itself
known at my desk,

my hands
still
dark
with the crumbling
soil
as I write
and watch

the first lines
of a new poem
like flowers
of scarlet fire
coming to fullness
in a clear light.

 


Quote: IT HAPPENS TO THOSE WHO LIVE ALONE
In The House of Belonging
Many Rivers Press. © David Whyte

Sunday Summer Morning
Photo © David Whyte
May 30th 2016

Invisible cloak

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
May the clarity of light be yours,
May the fluency of the ocean be yours,
May the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
Wind work these words
Of love around you,
An invisible cloak
To mind your life.


Quote: John O’Donohue —

Excerpt from ‘Beannacht’ in his book: To Bless The Space Between Us

Photo: Ann Cahill – County Clare/Ireland