Friday, June 01, 2007

A Little Poetry for You: Whyte

It's Poetry Friday!

My offering is just below. The round-up of all the PF offerings can be reached via this button:



First of all, a warm thank you to Stidmama, who thought to send me this poem earlier this week.

Usually I post the first few stanzas of a poem, and then link to the entire poem so that you can read the end. Today I'll do something a little different. In this poem, I found the last 3 stanzas so startling that I prefer to share these last three rather than the start of the poem. The link will still take you to the entire poem, allowing you this time to read the beginning (and re-read the end of course).


The House of Belonging
by David Whyte

...
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.

Go here for the rest of the poem. And don't forget to click the link at the bottom to hear it!

Once you've read it, and heard it, then check out the poet's bio and see if that makes you rethink your opinion of the poem itself. It's an interesting experiment I think.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

Yet again, Nancy, you've blown me away with a hertofore unknown poem. Truly excellent. Thanks!

Michele said...

Lovely - I've heard of Whyte but not read anything of his before...

Anonymous said...

12 JUne 2007


A silver sky

ripe for the mirror.

you can not see yourself in this mirror

you can only see others

moreover, you can only see what others choose to expose.

Their houses, their boats, their sea-doos.




Birds skimming low over the water could

like as not

see them selves if they were to look down

as they skim low over the water

but they never do.

Rather they allow their reflections to chase them

quick and sharp over the still, glistening waters

while the bird's mind remains ever fixed on

food, or other birds, or escaping those damn noisy humans.










A dense forest impenetrable as a gaze.

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