"Song of a Man Who Has Come Through"

. . . If only I let it bear me, carry me, if only it carry me!
If only I am sensitive, subtle, oh, delicate, a winged gift!
If only, most lovely of all, I yield myself and am borrowed
By the fine, fine wind that takes its course through the chaos of the world
Like a fine, an exquisite chisel, a wedge-blade inserted;
If only I am keen and hard like the sheer tip of a wedge
Driven by invisible blows,
The rock will split, we shall come at the wonder. . . .

~D.H. Lawrence, DHL Selected Poems, p. 74

At first the poem seems to be describing us as delicate. Then we become wedge-blades inserted into the chaos of the world, driven, and the chaos splits – our situation and creation are transformed – all by the wind that borrows us. ~jpc

We need only yield. Namaste.

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