The Way It Is
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
By William Stafford, from The Way It Is, 1998
At those times when I feel I am hanging by a thread, I will think of this poem and be comforted — not what the speaker in the poem says, but one of the meanings I create for myself. Thank for posting it.
You’re welcome, Christine. I’m sorry it took me so long to say hello. Yes, yes, yes to what you wrote. Hope all is well with you!