Poetry

Poetry Friday: Finishing Well

One never knows, but I’ve been thinking lately that I’m probably about halfway through my life. Maybe a little over.

What do I have to show for it?

I look back over my story so far and see an odd jumble of ingredients that don’t seem to have resolved themselves yet into a definite direction. If I were reading it in a book, some episodes would make me sad or worried, but nevertheless I like my story. I wouldn’t want to trade it for someone else’s; I’ve grown attached to it. But… where is it leading? What impact will it have?

Many good stories don’t really gain momentum till after they pass the halfway point. Then all the threads are gathered together and the total picture comes clear. I’m hoping mine will be in that class.

In this mood, Wendell Berry’s “From the Crest” comes to mind. It’s a long poem, but these lines from the third section lend a voice to my mid-life ruminations:

From the crest of the wave
the grave is in sight,
the soul’s last deep track
in the known…

I am trying to teach
my mind to accept the finish
that all good work must have:
of hands touching me,
days and weathers passing
over me, the smooth of love,
the wearing of the earth.
At the final stroke
I will be a finished man.

Or, in my case — a finished woman.

Poetry Friday is at Read Write Believe today.

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