The Journey

I woke up to the sound of the rain this morning, a wave of melancholy washed over me and Mary Oliver's poem 'The Journey' crept up on me like a long lost friend.

The Journey

One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice - - -

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

'Mend my life!'

each voice cried

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations - - -

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice,

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do - - - determined to save

the only life you could save. 

It's days like this I'm thankful to have my art, guiding me through the melancholy and through to the other side.