In midsummer, under the luminous
sky of everlasting light,

the laced structures of thought
fall away

like the filigrees of the white
diaphanous

dandelion turned pure white and
ghostly,

hovering at the edge of its own
insubstantial

discovery in flight. I’ll do the same,
watch

the shimmering dispersal of tented
seeds

lodge in the tangled landscape
without

the least discrimination. So let my own
hopes

escape the burning fall of ambition,
parachute

through the hushed air, let them spread
elsewhere,

into the tangled part of life that refuses
to be set straight.

Herod searched for days looking for
the children.

The mind’s hunger for fame will hunt down
all innocence.

Let them find safety in the growing wild.
I’ll not touch them there.

~David Whyte

We depend through the whole of life on the support of others. Our dependency is not a cause for despair but rather leads to a sense of wonderment and gratitude, which is the moving force of true spirituality.

~David Brazier