In our darkest hours, when we are at our most vulnerable, we can revisit the wisdom of our poets. Poetry is like food for our soul and can become a co-traveler for the road ahead. Indeed, images and metaphors found within poems enable us to express emotion that may otherwise be too hard and even threatening to utter directly. For me, poetry is like engaging in dialogue where there is a sense of reciprocated understanding and attunement. Below is The Journey by Mary Oliver (1963). Artwork by Larisa Koshkina on Pixabay.

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.