He was surprised
to see the gray clouds,
for the sunrise was clear
with blue sky, and he
assumed, as he always had,
that the sky moved
as the sun moved, east
to west, yet here the clouds
came, traveling west to
east, and he thought of
the trajectory he imagined
his life took, of birth
to death, infancy to old age,
and he wondered if he
had missed something,
if the winds moved
differently than he supposed,
if death also traveled
toward life, if there were
more currents than he
could imagine; and if
imagining itself, setting
a distinct course, one he
planned in advance, kept
him from seeing, if he
were at this moment
actually growing younger,
at the same time he grew
older; if he was in fact
moving in ways he could
barely sense, into another
life, into other worlds.
to see the gray clouds,
for the sunrise was clear
with blue sky, and he
assumed, as he always had,
that the sky moved
as the sun moved, east
to west, yet here the clouds
came, traveling west to
east, and he thought of
the trajectory he imagined
his life took, of birth
to death, infancy to old age,
and he wondered if he
had missed something,
if the winds moved
differently than he supposed,
if death also traveled
toward life, if there were
more currents than he
could imagine; and if
imagining itself, setting
a distinct course, one he
planned in advance, kept
him from seeing, if he
were at this moment
actually growing younger,
at the same time he grew
older; if he was in fact
moving in ways he could
barely sense, into another
life, into other worlds.
Richard Wehrman
From: Being Here
original title: Traveling
From: Being Here
original title: Traveling
This poem gave my existance one of those tugs, (paradigm shift) and I thought, I could look for another current, perhaps one coming sideways, or maybe I should think of how I move sideways. The first thing I'm paying attention to is how much mess I can make by spilling things, or not seeing quite what's where I'm stepping. I just clean up and keep on moving, but I am thinking "sideways."
I love that this poem doesn't say anything about where that different direction might be, and actually is looking at becoming younger. I'm not so much interested in that concept, but see that it's also possible.
This is why I love poetry!
I didn't know this poem, and I love it. Thank you for sharing it with us!
ReplyDeleteGlad you liked it Barb.. I did too, for the same reasons I think, that it made me wonder if there wasn't another way of looking at things... That maybe things aren't always as they seem... we may not be getting younger physically, but that maybe the movement toward death is a movement to a different state of being, a different state of consciousness...
ReplyDeleteHi and thanks for your comments. I enjoy this, and every time I read it I go somewhere else with it. That's why poetry is so wonderful.
ReplyDeleteA beautiful poem. Thank you for posting it.
ReplyDelete