I remember all the different kinds of years
Angry, or brokenhearted, or afraid.
I remember feeling like that
walking up the mountain along the dirt path
to my broken house on the island.
And long years of waiting in Massachusetts.
The winter walking and hot summer walking.
I finally fell in love with all of it:
dirt, night, rock and far views.
It’s strange that my heart is full
now as my desire was then.
It is the last two lines of this poem that grabbed my attention – how what we can long for in our younger years can become what fills our hearts later in life. Those years of being angry, or brokenhearted, or afraid, who has not known such times? The feeling of always walking uphill, of being isolated as on an island, in a house broken by any manner of things and long years of waiting though we don’t even know for what.
Then, I finally fell in love with all of it: dirt, night, rock and far views – the grit, the darkness, the hard places. There comes a time when it is possible, though we may not realize it, having come to the same place over and over, that our longing transforms. That last line is so poignant to me: It’s strange that my heart is full / now as my desire was then. What I wanted then, thought I wanted, is now before my eyes when I finally notice.
May we each arrive at that surprising place where we notice at last the gifts of our lives and feel the fullness of our hearts.