Thursday, August 24, 2017
Something Else
Something Else
Whatever it is hangs over us,
wants us to keep on gliding forward,
as if a compass nestled in the heart,
as if a hidden magnet were always calling to
the bits of iron which swim in the blood,
or a boat was being drawn ahead
by a canal-man, with his steady line and
unwavering eye,
not asking why, just doing it,
even on the days we awaken
amidst the ruins of the spirit,
and have nothing to offer,
except a longing for the smell of hyacinths
and something else we can't fully recall.
From: Marrow of Flame
Poems of the Spiritual Journey
See Some Kiss We Want: Poems Selected and New
Dorothy Walters
