August 12 – “. . . even the laziest, most deathly afraid part of you . . . “

Wednesday, August 12, 2015  –  mid-week in mid-August

The poetry itself, with its compelling sharp-edge words, won’t clunk.  That’s the point of reading strong poems out loud, with pauses: to create in your ear and imagination a moment of sheer beauty that touches, as David Whyte suggests today, “even the laziest, most deathly afraid part of you” and restores our souls.

Each day in August at the university people come to work and go home, every day a little more deeply engaged in shaping a new season of learning.  How beautiful is that?   

Today’s Post –


The Lightest Touch

Good poetry begins with
the lightest touch,
a breeze arriving from nowhere,
a whispered healing arrival,
a word in your ear,
a settling into things,
then like a hand in the dark
it arrests the whole body,
steeling you for revelation.

In the silence that follows
a great line
you can feel Lazarus
deep inside
even the laziest, most deathly afraid
part of you,
lift up his hands and walk toward the light.

  — David Whyte
     from Everything is Waiting for You 
     ©2003 Many Rivers Press

David Whyte 2009.jpg

Whyte in 2009
Born 2 November 1955 (age 59)
Mirfield, Yorkshire
Occupation Poet
Nationality British, American

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