
“Four legs”, black and white photo on iPhone.
Words resonate. And the resonance is experienced differently by each one of us. Some of us react to the musicality of a word, i.e. the combination of vowels and consonants, which produces texture and tempo. Most of us respond to the meaning of a word. Depending on our life experiences, it triggers positive or negative emotions. This is the beauty of words. And poetry is a form of art that uses both of these qualities inherent in human language.
Now that springtime has arrived, and I just finished celebrating Greek Easter, I wanted to share with you a poem that I first read in 2018 and felt as if the poet was reading my mind. How comforting the feeling of being understood is. I marvel at the way humans connect on so many levels with each other.
The Truelove by David Whyte
from the book The House of Belonging
There is a faith in loving fiercely
the one who is rightfully yours,
especially if you have
waited years and especially
if part of you never believed
you could deserve this
loved and beckoning hand
held out to you this way.
I am thinking of faith now
and the testaments of loneliness
and what we feel we are
worthy of in this world.
Years ago in the Hebrides
I remember an old man
who walked every morning
on the grey stones
to the shore of the baying seals,
who would press his hat
to his chest in the blustering
salt wind and say his prayer
to the turbulent Jesus
hidden in the water,
and I think of the story
of the storm and everyone
waking and seeing
the distant
yet familiar figure
far across the water
calling to them,
and how we are all
preparing for that
abrupt waking,
and that calling,
and that moment
we have to say yes,
except it will
not come so grandly,
so Biblically,
but more subtly
and intimately in the face
of the one you know
you have to love,
so that when we finally step out of the boat
toward them, we find
everything holds
us, and confirms
our courage, and if you wanted
to drown you could,
but you don’t
because finally
after all this struggle
and all these years,
you don’t want to any more,
you’ve simply had enough
of drowning
and you want to live and you
want to love and you will
walk across any territory
and any darkness,
however fluid and however
dangerous, to take the
one hand you know
belongs in yours.

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