To the One Who Leads the Way

I whisper it now at this table

because I may not remember

after the long confusion 

of the day

of this life full of broken chairs

spilled tea cups

loss and gain jumbled and dripping

I may not remember to say

into my pillow

in the quiet room,

wake me when it's time.

I will not demand

nor pluck you by the arm

but ask you with eyes averted,

if grass has risen on the path

and I cannot find my way—

if I haven't ruined everything—

bring me to the edge

where the waves lap,

this life and the other 

changing one to the other

let the wind of my contradiction die

and the water calm.

I have learned, oh so thoroughly,

that I cannot do this

but if you would, take me by the hand

so it can yet be done.

written to David Whyte "House of Belonging”

—Sarah Webb