Ask Me
Some time when the river is ice ask me
mistakes I have made. Ask me whether
what I have done is my life. Others
have come in their slow way into
my thought, and some have tried to help
or to hurt: ask me what difference
their strongest love or hate has made.
I will listen to what you say.
You and I can turn and look
at the silent river and wait. We know
the current is there, hidden; and there
are comings and goings from miles away
that hold the stillness exactly before us.
What the river says, that is what I say.
William Stafford
Today I am celebrating my birthday. I found this poem a few days ago and pulled it back out today as a way of reflecting on my life. Stafford reminds me that I need to remember patience. My life has been full of people who helped and people who hurt. I also need to sort out the lovers and haters and move forward from the haters.
Yes, on my birthday is a good time to take stock and figure out what I move ahead with and what I leave behind.
The photo above is a winter picture of Sherman Creek by Highway 20, Inchelium Highway, Washington state.
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