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“Sweet Darkness”
“You must learn one thing. The world was made to be free in.” — David Whyte Many of you told me how much you enjoyed the post featuring Mary Oliver’s “Invitation” this week — so I’ll continue our celebration of National Poetry Month with an old favorite. Sometimes the right poem can work its magic immediately. And sometimes it depends on what you’re going through at the time you read it. David Whyte’s “Sweet Darkness” is one such poem for me. Revisiting it today, I am struck this time by the sheer power of its last three lines. This heart-stopping poem reminds us that loneliness could be an invitation to…
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Finding our way back home
“This is the bright home in which I live, this is where I ask my friends to come.” ~David Whyte “Home” is a small but expansive word. What does it really mean to make a home, to feel at home, or to be at home with oneself? At the same time, the buildings we call home reflect who we are, which is why inviting people inside our homes is an intimate gesture that extends beyond basic hospitality. My mother had a gift for creating beautiful homes, and I inherited her appreciation of the domestic arts. In a nursing facility near the end of her life, she was confined to a wheelchair and talked constantly…
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“Wild Geese”
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination.” — Mary Oliver Mary Oliver’s Wild Geese” touches a tender place in my soul, and I often share it with students in my workshops. It always sparks compelling personal stories and discussions after I read it aloud. As a child in Sunday school, I was terrified of disappointing the punitive, restrictive God portrayed in our leather-covered bibles. No matter how “good” I was, or how closely I followed the rules, I still felt judged and unworthy. Today, I follow my own moral compass, and I try not to allow the judgment of others to overshadow my…
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“Make music of what you can”
I always knew I wanted to be a writer. When I was a kid, I perched in the gnarly apple tree in my backyard and scribbled stories in a notebook with lined pages. In college I majored in English and journalism, but it took a few more years to find the courage (and the income) I needed to begin a real writing career. The zig-zag path that led me here was marked with detours and littered with excuses. After graduation, I worked at other jobs where I learned some valuable lessons — including what I didn’t want to do for the rest of my life. The poem below is…
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A random still life, an everyday love poem
Then all the moments of the past began to line up behind that moment.” — Billy Collins Billy Collins sees art in the ordinary acts of daily life. In “This Much I Do Remember,” Collins recalls a tender moment that most couples can relate to: the leisurely hour at the dinner table after a good meal has been shared. The woman he’s addressing in this poem is his wife of many years. I fight tears every time I read this piece. It deftly underscores the familiar comfort of a long marriage, reminding me of my own. As Collins wisely points out, the simple, everyday moments we share are the foundation of…
