a poem found me today and unlocked me, in a place wholly unexpected.
i was sitting in a church, biding my time through the morning service, waiting for an after-service forum i'd been invited to participate in about marriage equality.
i was just...sitting there. half paying attention. my thoughts wandering as they so often do, just barely touching the present moment. staring out the window, planning the rest of my day, thinking ahead to the week, the month, my mind in a million other places.
and then, as if she were in a tunnel, i heard a woman say these words: "when your eyes are tired, the world is tired also." and something about those words caught me...pulled me back...
and so i listened to her. i could not move. could not breathe until she finished the poem. i was surprised to feel my eyes fill up with water, i was surprised to feel my heart, aching. i was most surprised to feel my mind, aware.
those words wrapped themselves around me like an embrace, like a friend, telling me how to calm the restlessness in my head, and in my heart.
and now, i am home. there is shifting in the air, in the atmosphere. a storm is coming.
i know the world is moving, the world is moving so damn fast and sometimes i feel as though i will never keep up, i will trip and fall and get left behind somehow. am i strong enough? am i good enough? sometimes i feel...so unsure. and so. alone.
but for tonight at least, my head and my heart are still and quiet. and that poem is singing inside me.
i'm going outside, to my back porch.
and i'm just going to sit there.
in the sweet darkness.
When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.
When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.
Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.
There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.
The dark will be your womb
The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.
You must learn one thing,
The world was made to be free in.
Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.
Sometimes it takes darkness and
the sweet confinement of your
aloneness to learn this:
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
From "The House of Belonging"