Things No One Asks About

A poem by Mark Nepo.

I have been called heroic

for merely surviving,

which is like championing an eagle

for flying to its nest

and I have been condemned as selfish

for following the call of truth,

which is like blaming a turtle

for finding the deep

and I have escaped death more than once

but not the dying.


I have been worn slowly by experience

and torn apart instantly by crisis and revelation

and all I can say is Life is Food:

to love is to chew; to forgive,

to swallow.

I cough up these bits:

the heart like a wing

is of no use tucked

and distrust in the world

like an eye swollen shut

stops the work of love.


Like a worried glassblower

trying to refigure his clear and shattered heart,

I have cut myself on all that I was,

surprised at the wisdom

hiding in the edges.

Excerpted from The Way Under the Way: The Place of True Meeting by Mark Nepo, published by Sounds True, November 2016.


*photo credit: Pixabay

Originally published at medium.com

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