A Poem: Love After Love

Thank you to Ron for sharing this beautiful one with me...

which I am moved to pass on....

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Love After Love

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other's welcome,

And say, sit here. Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was yourself.

Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit. Feast on your life.

~ Derek Walcott

I share this on the 33rd anniversary of my twin brother's death....

Sabbaths 1985, V -- Wendell Berry

How long does it take to make the woods?

As long as it takes to make the world.

The woods is present as the world is, the presence

of all its past and of all its time to come.

It is always finished, it is always being made, the act

of its making forever greater than the act of its destruction.

It is a part of eternity for its end and beginning

belong to the end and beginning of all things,

the beginning lost in the end, the end in the beginning.

What is the way to the woods, how do you go there?

By climbing up through the six days’ field,

kept in all the body’s years, the body’s

sorrow, weariness, and joy. By passing through

the narrow gate on the far side of that field

where the pasture grass of the body’s life gives way

to the high, original standing of the trees.

By coming into the shadow, the shadow

of the grace of the strait way’s ending,

the shadow of the mercy of light.

Why must the gate be narrow?

Because you cannot pass beyond it burdened.

To come into the woods you must leave behind

the six days’ world, all of it, all of its plans and hopes.

You must come without weapon or tool, alone,

expecting nothing, remembering nothing,

into the ease of sight, the brotherhood of eye and leaf.

~ Wendell Berry ~

(A Timbered Choir)



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In this New Year...

Somewhere, something incredible is waiting to be known.

~ Blaise Pascal ~



Web version: www.panhala.net/Archive/Waiting_to_Be_Known.html