The Journey by David Whyte

Above the mountains 
the geese turn into
the light again
painting their
black silhouettes
on an open sky.
Sometimes everything 
has to be
enscribed across
the heavens
so you can find 
the one line
already written 
inside you.
Sometimes it takes 
a great sky
to find that
first, bright
and indescribable
wedge of freedom
in your own heart.
Sometimes with
the bones of the black
sticks left when the fire 
has gone out
someone has written 
something new
in the ashes
of your life.
You are not leaving.
Even as the light 
fades quickly now,
you are arriving.
...
The Journey: in 
'The House of Belonging'
and
‘River Flow: 
New and Selected Poems’
©David Whyte and Many Rivers Press