Friday, September 15, 2017

Finding the way back home

"This is the bright home in which I live, 
this is where I ask my friends to come." 
~David Whyte

Morning in Vinsetta Park / Cindy La Ferle

So many of you emailed me after reading Wednesday's post about the anniversary of my mother's death. Thank you so much for your words of comfort, and for sharing your own stories of parent loss with me. A few of you also asked where to find the David Whyte poem that was read by my son at my mother's funeral, so I'm sharing it here... 
The House of Belonging
By David Whyte
I awoke this morning
 in the gold light
 turning this way
 and that

thinking for
 a moment
 it was one
 like any other.

 the veil had gone
 from my
 darkened heart
 I thought

it must have been the quiet
 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.

 I thought
 this is the good day
 you could
 meet your love,

this is the gray 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 live,
 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.

This poem is excerpted from River Flow and The House of Belonging by David Whyte. 

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