The Journey In
Written in the ashes
The Journey In
Above the mountains the geese turn into the light again
painting the black silhouettes on an open sky.
Sometimes everything has to be scribed across
the heavens so you can find the one line already written
Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that first, bright
and an indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart.
Sometimes with the bones of the black sticks left when the fire
has gone out someone has written something new
in the ashes of your life.
You are not leaving. Even as the light fades quickly now,
you are arriving
A short one this week because the turnaround from Yom Kippur to Shabbat to Sukkot is calendar and logistical whiplash.
I’ve been taken lately by this David Whyte poem. There is a lot going on in it, but I want to focus on the the image of the bones of the black stick and the ashes.
We go through so many moments of transition in life and in each transition, there is an aspect of mourning what was and what wasn’t. Often, I have a voice in my head that speaks of that finality with ominousness. It’s over and gone. You’ll never get that back.
What I love about Whyte’s image here is that sometimes there is mourning, loss, and an ending, but there is a story yet to be written. There can be newness in mourning. Even ashes can be given life.
May you find the hope to rewrite a new message in your ashes.
Shabbat Shalom, Happy Weekend, and Chag Sameach to those celebrating!