Thursday, October 06, 2011

Thursday Poem - The Moment

The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,

is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can't breathe.

No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.

Margaret Atwood
(from Morning in the Burned House)

6 comments:

liliannattel said...

I love this--the photo and the poem. Atwood is best known for her fiction, but I love her poetry and essays.

Mystic Meandering said...

Beautiful, beautiful! Big goosebumps going on here. The photo delightful! Dust in the wind we are... Divine particles blowin' in the wind...
Thank you as always for your inspiring photos and posts! Christine

Valerie said...

Yup...exactly!

One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

Oh my
words that speak
directly to my heart...

the wild magnolia said...

I own this, I own nothing. I am there.

Thank you for sharing.

Victoria said...

That is exactly how I feel. Thanks for posting it.

Blessings,

Victoria