The Sibyl
by Dorothy WaltersOriginal Language English
Everything on this journey
is destined, though unplanned.
What you call my madness
is the food of my life.
The silvered mesh
between the worlds
doesn't really exist for me.
I never go over.
I am there already.
It is easy, like parting a sheen of water,
an animal floating in arcs of color.
How familiar they are,
these inner musics,
these currents of desire.
It is the other part that is difficult.
The coming back.
The not being able to tell.
-- from Marrow of Flame : Poems of the Spiritual Journey, by Dorothy Walters |
<<Previous Poem | More Poems by Dorothy Walters | Next Poem >>
View All Poems by Dorothy Walters
Recommended Books: Dorothy Walters