I chose this poem by William Stafford after comments I shared with David at The Dad Poet about poets we enjoyed. Those are not short lists. David reminded me of William Stafford who writes in both a simple and complex way as well. He tells us with simplicity that there is a thread that connects us all and to all things.
More importantly, perhaps, it connects us to our self. We cannot describe it. We know it is there and by holding on life unfolds the way it should without us knowing exactly what that means. The connections to others provide safety and love that we know there are people, places, and spaces to turn towards during the more difficult moments.
There’s a thread that 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 this 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 can stop unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
“Spring On The Rocks” (Sabino Creek near the dam.) — Image by kenne
ivonprefontaine
Teacher as Transformer 