A poem by David Whyte
To be human is to become visible
while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others.
To remember the other world in this world,
is to live in your true inheritance.
You are not a troubled guest on this earth,
you are not an accident amidst other accidents
you were invited from another and greater night
than the one from which you just emerged.
Now, looking through the slanting light of the morning window
toward the mountain presence of everything that can be
what urgency calls you towards your one love?
What shape waits in the seed of you
to grow and spread its branches
towards a future sky?
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