How Change Opens The Tomb of Longings

This poem by David Whyte captured d me for it is a thought which I have been pondering about myself. It follows completely the thoughts of my last post, Time For Change. I find myself waking as well to the rising sun of change.

Easter Morning in Wales A garden inside me, unknown, secret, neglected for years, The layers of its soil deep and thick Trees in the corners with branching arms And the tangled briars like tangled nets Sunrise through the misted orchard, Morning sun turns silver on the pointed twigs I have woken from the sleep of ages And I am not sure if I am really seeing, or dreaming Or simply astonished Walking toward sunrise To have stumbled into the garden Where the stone was rolled from the tomb of longing. David Whyte