sometimes the words just won’t come. i can’t find them anywhere within me. they rattle around or hide in corners of my mind and i am afraid to fetch them. then, when i least expect it, someone else will form the words in type, in simplicity, in truth, as if they knew my very soul. i recognize the words that are not there.
living and dying ~ facing life and death every day can both sharpen my awareness of everything around me and at the same time dull every sense that i have.
there is a reason that i need a tribe, soul-mates, friends, writers who are courageous and wise.
from — Naomi Shihab Nye, poet, songwriter, and novelist: http://www.poetryfoundation.org/bio/naomi-shihab-nye
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow
You must speak to it till your voice catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for…