To hold together
and to split apart
at one and the
same time,
like the shock of
being born,
breathing in this
world
while lamenting
for the one we’ve left.
No one needs to
tell us
we are already on
our onward way,
no one has to remind
us
of our everyday
and intimate
embrace
with
disappearance.
We were born
saying goodbye
to what we love,
we were born
in a beautiful
reluctance
to be here,
not quite ready
to breathe in this
new world.
We are here and we
are not,
we are present while
still not
wanting to admit
we have arrived.
Not quite arrived
in our minds
yet always
arriving in the body,
always growing
older
while trying to
grow younger,
always in the act
of catching up,
of saying hello
or saying goodbye
finding strangely,
in each new and
imagined future
the still-lived
memory
of our previous,
precious life.
--David Whyte,
Cleave in
The Bell and the Blackbird (2018)
In November we remember all souls...
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