This is for a friend of mine who has been in the woods awhile.
And I said, “Why do you have to go?
I don’t understand this.
How can I walk without you when
This rain is hiding the way?”
And I don’t know,
When I walk down this way,
I can’t be sure.
I wish I knew the path to choose.
Rising sunshine may light
My steps through forest darkness.
I hope so.
In my mind I see the sun come up,
Brushing aside these misty fingers.
Oh, things could be different.
Friday, January 21, 2005
Searchlight
Subscribe to:
or 
or
5 comments:
i know what it's like to be in the woods. funny thing about the woods, when you find your way out, or more to the point, when you are found, you appreciate the clarity so much, humbled to tears that Anyone cared enough to look for you.
i don't know if that's what this poem is about, but that's what it said to me.
Walking on through the woods is what I do. I see no end to it. A burden weighs upon my heart and upon my mind as I walk on. Why walk on?
>>Walking on through the woods is what I do. I see no end to it. A burden weighs upon my heart and upon my mind as I walk on. Why walk on?<<
This is a profound question. Many people ask it silently, without ever articulating it or even admitting to themselves they are asking. I think the fact that you are is significant.
As Dante wrote, autobiographically:
"In the middle of the road of my life, I awoke in a dark wood, where the true way was wholly lost." - Alighieri Dante, The Divine ComedyAs any good literary type will tell you, Dante's awful realization led to his redemption. Not merely finding his way out of the woods, but being guided out. As Kimberly suggested, being found.I wholeheartedly agree with this pattern. Christ looks for people who are lost and know it. Not that writing a poem about it makes me an expert...but I've been there, and I've been found. The key, if there is a "key," is something like: Ask (pray) for a guide out, and then expect him (Christ) to appear, to answer.
Yes just that I am is sufficient. It is the greatest mystery. The mystery of existence that is. "Why is there anything?"
It is a slow and beautiful thing that I see Him doing in me. He does make things much more simple for me, and he calls me back to the center of my being, the "heart." In which he speaks and in which he dwells. He speaks to the place that is hurting, the place that is crying, the place in need of healing.
>>It is the greatest mystery. The mystery of existence that is. "Why is there anything?"<<
The "mystery of existence," as you put it, is ultimately the "mystery of creation." Why did Christ create? Why would an infinitely happy being, content and in community with his Father and the Spirit...why would he make something other? Why make creatures through which and for which he would suffer?
Only one answer suffices: love.
As George MacDonald wrote,
"The being of God is love, therefore creation...when I am told that he is love, I see that if he were not love he would not, could not create." (Unspoken Sermons)
Love. The mystery is still unsolved, but at least it has a name.
Post a Comment