By David Whyte
No one told me
it would lead to this.
No one said
there would be secrets
I would not want to know.
No one told me about seeing.
seeing brought me loss and a darkness I could not hold.
No one told me about writing
or speaking.
Speaking and writing poetry
I unsheathed the sharp edge
of experience that led me here.
No one told me
it could not be put away.
I was told once, only
in a whisper,
‘The blade is so sharp-
It cuts together
-not apart’
This is no comfort.
My future is full of blood
from being blindfolded
hands outstretched,
feeling a way along its firm edge.
This poem, "No One Told Me" by David Whyte, that I read for the first time the other day, felt like looking in a mirror. It reminded me of what I had wanted, had tried, to convey in July of this year when I posted a poem under the title "Bittersweet Awakening."
I'm loving the mystery of this crazy perfect universe.
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