Poetry for April 27

Ukiah Library Poem of the Day for April 27

The Well of Grief

David Whyte

Those who will not slip beneath

The still surface on the well of grief

turning downward through its black water

to the place we cannot breathe

will never know the source from which we drink,

the secret water, cold and clear,

nor find in the darkness glimmering

the small round coins

thrown by those who wished for something else.

Willits Library National Poetry Month Poem of the Day for Friday, April 27, 2007

RUMI

Ode 110

Don’t worry about saving these songs!

And if one of our instruments breaks,

it doesn’t matter.

We have fallen into the place

where everything is music.

The strumming and the flute notes

rise into the atmosphere,

and even if the whole world’s harp

should burn up, there will still be

hidden instruments playing.

So the candle flickers and goes out.

We have a piece of flint, and a spark.

This singing-art is sea foam.

The graceful movements come from a pearl

somewhere on the ocean floor.

Poems reach up like the edge of driftwood

along the beach, wanting and wanting!

They derive

from a slow and powerful root

that we can’t see.

Stop the words now.

Open the window in the center of your chest,

and let the spirits fly in and out.

(from Rumi, Like This Versions by Coleman Barks)