10/05/2023
Heard David years ago now, but his poetic voice is one I know I can trust for its resonance and honesty. Take a read:
THE SHELL
An open sandy shell
on the beach,
empty but beautiful,
like a memory
of a protected previous self.
The most difficult griefs,
ones in which
we slowly open
to a larger sea, a grander
sweep that washes
all our elements apart.
So strange the way
we are larger
in grief
than we imagined
we deserved or could claim.
Even stranger then,
at the edge of the sea,
when loss
floods into us again,
to feel the hand
of the wind
laid on our shoulder,
reminding us
how death grants
a fierce and fallen freedom
away from the prison
of a constant
and continued presence,
how in the end
those who have left us
might no longer need us,
with all our tears
and our much needed
measures of loss
and that their own death
is as personal
and private
as that life of theirs
which you never really knew,
and another disturbing thing,
that exultation
is possible
without them.
And they
in fact
for themselves,
are glad for you to let go
of all the stasis
and the enclosure
and the need for them to live
like some prisoner,
that you only wanted
to remain incurious
and happy in your love,
never looking for the key,
never wanting to
turn the lock and walk
away
like the wind,
unneedful of you,
ungovernable,
unnamable,
and like you now,
free.
..
THE SHELL.
From Everything is Waiting for You
Many Rivers Press. © David Whyte
..
Letting go, not of grief, but of the way we are grieving. letting go, not of our love for those who are gone, but of the way our grief and refusal to let go, is stopping us from embracing the love they taught us how to hold. Letting their names turn and return into the unnameable qualities they held all along. Letting them, and ourselves alone, to be free. DW
..
At Ease
Portofino. Ligurian Sea.
Photo @ David Whyte
October 4th 2023