Sunday, July 27, 2008
The Quiet Spirit (poem)
The Quiet Spirit
There are many commencements and many arrivals, many revelations and many dark nights of the soul. At times we traverse the same ground again and again, barely making progress. We stumble forward, touching the walls of the narrow tunnel for reassurance and support, seeking the light, which we know is waiting ahead, for we have been pierced by its glory many times before.
I have arrived here
after eons of struggle.
I have suffered
many indignities,
had many epiphanies
as I went.
Larks sang to me
as they spiraled up
at morning,
rainbows stained the sky,
pointing me ahead.
Always, I followed the inner music,
whether I lay down
in flowery meadows
or fell into bogs
along the way.
Who knows what I was
when I began this journey,
who I am
now that I am here.
Dorothy Walters
July 25, 2008
There are many commencements and many arrivals, many revelations and many dark nights of the soul. At times we traverse the same ground again and again, barely making progress. We stumble forward, touching the walls of the narrow tunnel for reassurance and support, seeking the light, which we know is waiting ahead, for we have been pierced by its glory many times before.
I have arrived here
after eons of struggle.
I have suffered
many indignities,
had many epiphanies
as I went.
Larks sang to me
as they spiraled up
at morning,
rainbows stained the sky,
pointing me ahead.
Always, I followed the inner music,
whether I lay down
in flowery meadows
or fell into bogs
along the way.
Who knows what I was
when I began this journey,
who I am
now that I am here.
Dorothy Walters
July 25, 2008
