Nada Brahma Sound Is Divine



Nada Brahma Sound Is Divine


Patience, load needs time.


Sunday, November 15, 2015

THE SHELL






 
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
and when loss floods
into us
like the long darkness it is
and the old nurtured hope
is drowned again,
even stranger then
at the edge of the sea,
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 for themselves
in fact
are glad to have 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,
free.




THE SHELL.
From RIVER FLOW: New and Selected Poems
© David Whyte and Many Rivers Press



3 comments:

  1. "death grants

    a fierce and fallen freedom

    away from the prison

    of a constant

    and continued presence" ... deep and serious thoughts, my friend ... reminds myself ... contemplating suicide a few years back ... and I found, as soon as I had a definite, fool proof plan ... I was free not to do it, because I knew, I could to it anytime ... so now I am a happy, compassionate person ... there are so many opportunities to help other people through their difficulties ... like giving a sandwich to a street person or a smoke or leaving some money on a park bench for the one that will find it ... Love has no boundaries ... we are never alone, when we love ... smiles ... Always, cat.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Deep Thoughts.
    Thank you.
    :))

    ReplyDelete

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