a poem


zach’s uncle chris, who married us, and who i muse on big existential questions with via email sent me this poem as we discussed the general meaning of my life. it’s fitting, i think.

The Journey
by Mary Oliver
One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice—
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
“Mend my life!”
each voice cried.
But you didn’t stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world
determined to do
the only thing you could do—
determined to save
the only life you could save.
“The Journey,” by Mary Oliver, from Dreamwork. © Grove Atlantic, 1996.

speaking of journeys, doesn’t zelda look like she’s on a pretty awesome journey in life.  i think so and i’m thankful i get to come along for the ride and experience her joie de vivre.