The house of belonging
May 30, 2010
- David Whyte
I
awoke this morning in the gold light turning this way and that
thinking for a moment it was one day like any other.
But
the veil had gone from my darkened heart and I thought
it must have been the quiet candlelight that filled my room,
it must have been the first easy rhythm with which I breathed myself to sleep,
it must have been the prayer I said speaking to the otherness of the night.
And
I thought this is a good day you could meet your love,
This is the black day someone close to you could die.
This
is the day you realize how easily the thread is broken between this world and
the next
and I found myself sitting up in the quiet pathway of light,
the tawny close-grained cedar burning round me like fire
and all the angels of this housely heaven ascending
through the first roof of light the sun has made.
This
is the bright home in which I love,
this is where I ask my friends to come,
this is where I want to love all the things it has taken me so long to learn to
love.
This
is the temple of my adult aloneness
and I belong to that aloneness as I belong to my life.
There
is no house like the house of belonging.
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