The Sea





The pull is so strong we will not believe

the drawing tide is meant for us,

I mean the gift, the sea,

the place where all the rivers meet.


Easy to forget,

how the great receiving depth

untamed by what we need

needs only what will flow its way.


Easy to feel so far away

and the body so old

it might not even stand the touch.


But what would that be like

feeling the tide rise

out of the numbness inside

toward the place to which we go

washing over our worries of money,

the illusion of being ahead,

the grief of being behind,

our limbs young

rising from such a depth?


What would that be like

even in this century

driving toward work with the others,

moving down the roads

among the thousands swimming upstream,

as if growing toward arrival,

feeling the currents of the great desire,

carrying time toward tomorrow?


Tomorrow seen today, for itself,

the sea where all the rivers meet, unbound,

unbroken for a thousand miles, the surface

of a great silence, the movement of a moment

left completely to itself, to find ourselves adrift,

safe in our unknowing, our very own,

our great tide, our great receiving, our


wordless, fiery, unspoken,

hardly remembered, gift of true longing.


~ David Whyte ~


(*Where Many Rivers Meet*)

2016-10-15T01:45:31+00:00 February 2nd, 2015|Comments Off on The Sea