Sometimes by david whyte

Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest

breathing
like the ones
in the old stories

who could cross
a shimmering bed of dry leaves
without a sound,

you come
to a place
whose only task

is to trouble you
with tiny
but frightening requests

conceived out of nowhere
but in this place
beginning to lead everywhere.

Requests to stop what
you are doing right now,
and

to stop what you
are becoming
while you do it,

questions
that can make
or unmake
a life,

questions
that have patiently
waited for you,

questions
that have no right
to go away.

© David Whyte

• Take a silent walk in the woods. When you are ready, settle down, breathe gently, perhaps rest against a tree. And then write a list of at least 5 questions that come to you.

• Reflect on your list of questions. Do they feel like the same question, put differently? Is there a theme that stands out? Which of the questions feels most alive for you?

• Write that question on the top of your journal page and explore what it means for your life, right now.

• Then write a poem, beginning with the words, “I have come to a place…” Let the words flow.