Out of the Cave

April 14, 2016

By Joyce Sutphen





When you have been

at war with yourself
for so many years that
you have forgotten why,
when you have been driving
for hours and only
gradually begin to realize
that you have lost the way,
when you have cut
hastily into the fabric,
when you have signed
papers in distraction,
when it has been centuries
since you watched the sun set
or the rain fall, and the clouds,
drifting overhead, pass as flat
as anything on a postcard;
when, in the midst of these
everyday nightmares, you
understand that you could
wake up,
you could turn
and go back
to the last thing you
remember doing
with your whole heart:
that passionate kiss,
the brilliant drop of love
rolling along the tongue of a green leaf,
then you wake,
you stumble from your cave,
blinking in the sun,
naming every shadow
as it slips.



Poem by Joyce Sutphen
Straight Out of View, © Beacon Press, 1995


The specifics of when and how Joyce Stephen‘s words found me have now faded. It was several years ago, whilst in the throes of some great shattering that urged me to shake off more dull grogginess of human conditioning…not a singular event, to be sure.


Flashes of inspired insight precede long stretches of moment-to-moment practice before new ways of being sink in and take root. First lightning, then rain…and more rain…and finally, a new green shoot.


I pass on this stirring poem with blessings for your own journey…





Photo Copyright : 吴 俊杰

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