The Well of Grief, David H. Whyte

well

Well at William Morris Red House

The Well of Grief

Those who will not slip beneath
the still surface on the well of grief,

turning down through its black water
to the place we cannot breathe,

will never know the source from which we drink,
the secret water, cold and clear,

nor find in the darkness glimmering,

     the small round coins,
thrown by those who wished for something else.

 

~David H. Whyte

Advertisements
This entry was posted in David Whyte, poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

One Response to The Well of Grief, David H. Whyte

  1. Carolyn K Haun says:

    This is a wonderful poem; so full of the knowledge of grief. I wish it could be given quickly in the first shock of loss, but it cannot. This poem waits for perspective and even then can be read only with the understanding that the gains of grief can never match the pain of loss.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s