The Song of the Lark - David Whyte

[Larry Robinson]

The Song of the Lark
 
The song begins and the eyes are lifted
but the sickle points toward the ground
its downward curve forgotten in the song she hears
while over the dark wood, rising or falling
the sun lifts on cool air
the small body of a singing lark.
 
The song falls, the eyes raise, the mouth opens
and her bare feet on the earth have stopped.
 
Whoever listens in this silence, as she listens
will also stand opened, thoughtless, frightened
by the joy she feels, the pathway in the field
branching to a hundred more, no one has explored.
 
What is called in her rises from the ground
and is found in her body,
what she is given is secret even from her.
 
This silence is the seed in her
of everything she is
and falling through her body
to the ground from which she comes
it finds a hidden place to grow
and rises, and flowers, in old wild places
where the dark-edged sickle cannot go.
 
       - David Whyte
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