Being Found

This past weekend I had the privilege of hearing one of my favorite poets speak in person, the man to whom I credit my love of poetry: David Whyte.  I’ll never forget the night six years ago, as I sat in Seattle’s beautiful Town Hall to hear him speak for the first time.  Within seconds of reciting his first poem, I had tears running down my face; I was in awe.  How could I have lived 27 years without this art form, without language to articulate some element of the heights and depths of the human experience.  And so, I’m eternally grateful for the life and work of people like David.

I’ve spent some time this past week mining for the words I’ve written over these past few months—words in the form of poetry, which is a very new and enjoyable endeavor I might add.  Six years ago, I certainly would not have anticipated that I would one day experiment with writing poetry myself… but then again, it’s not like I sought out poetry in the first place.  Sometimes life just find us–and thank God.

You will now find a collection of my poems on this site!  I’ll leave you today with something I’ve just transcribed from page to screen: a reflection on my journey over these past six years, and in particular, this transitional season of life.

Thanks for reading.

Did you ever think that the ache in your gut
Could one day transform into such a treasure as this:
The way your heart has come alive,
Been given a voice—and space and reverence,
The way your words which spring from this aching heart
Find resonance and meaning in the hearts and lives of others.

This is the radical hope of renewal:
That in the face of all the beauty and pain,
You choose, finally, not to run but to turn
And face the presence of every other aching heart
Longing to be seen, longing to be known,
Longing most of all to be held in the fierce grip of love.

Do you want to keep running? 
Go ahead—for there is a well-worn path
And it carries its graces, too…

But know there is no place—no place
Like the arms that long to hold you,
The eyes that will see you
As you’ve never before been seen—
As though within your face is held
The very face of God.