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

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