November

Art by Bryony Bensly

When morning breaks dark grey

outside my window, and my heart 

is quiet in the peace and safety

of my small rooms, I remember

years when I longed for a life shared,

when being alone was to be feared,

to be passed over, to be left.

It was inevitable that my soul needed

to learn aloneness. Solitude taught me

peace; the wild world taught me love.

Enraptured by sky and trees,

ocean and wolves and dogs,

I found just being was enough.

It's ten years, twenty years, later, now,

still traveling on my own by preference.

Once more, it is November. Winter storms

lie just ahead, when the pounding waves

will sing my soul into joy; the trees will dance

like dervishes in the wind, as bears

and wolves seek tunneled passages

at the base of ancient cedars

for protection from the rain. All winter,

they will dream of salmon and berries

until springtime comes again.

When morning breaks dark grey
outside my window, I remember
all this pilgrimage has taught me
that I could not have learned
any other way.

 Inspired by the poem "Ten Years Later" by David Whyte