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Today I know I need to mend my life.
The Journey
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 voice 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 that you could save.
Mary Oliver |
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