by Mary Oliver
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.
Photo Credit: Toward The Infinite, Kahlil Gibran. Gibran portrays the profile of a woman with head thrusted forward in her eagerness to reach toward the infinite. The hair is forced back, away from the face. The lips are sensitive and determined. Bruises are seen on the flesh of the face and neck. Yet with eyes partially closed, indifferent to her pain, she surges forth toward her goal.
Otto, Annie Salem. The Parables of Kahlil Gibran: An Interpretation Of His Writings And His Art. New York: The Citadel Press, 1963.