Sometimes other writers are able verbalize a thought or emotion that was not yet solidified in my own mind, and it hits a nerve... I came across this poem by Adrienne Rich today and was reminded how much I enjoy reading poetry. It is not logical or factual (most times) but illusive... and yet it binds us all together with a common thread of feeling. This was the perfect thing for me to read today. It made me happy.
The picture was taken in a sculpture garden on San Juan Island that Brookie, Henry, Owen and I stumbled upon in the (very) early morning when Owen woke up. We crept through the damp grass and quietly commented on the art work we saw. Brooklyn had such reverence for it all. To her, everything was "magic" and "special." She called this path that led down to the water "The Magic Path." I love how she sees it that way. Truth is, even at 40, I do too.
Either you will
go through this door
or you will not go through.
If you go through
there is always the risk
of remembering your name.
Things look at you doubly
and you must look back
and let them happen.
If you do not go through
it is possible
to live worthily
to maintain your attitudes
to hold your position
to die bravely
but much will blind you
much will evade you
at what cost, who knows?
The door itself
makes no promises.
It is only a door.
Adrienne Rich from Collected Early Poems 1950-1970
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