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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476472" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>And Should It Come Time To Speak Of The Sadness</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">And should it come time to speak of the sadness <br>that reaches fruition in the medicine bag of the heart, <br>don't bring a teacher that can't heal by singing and dancing <br>to the wounded discipline of a lost art that's gone<br>into the sacred solitude of the secret suffering <br>that upholds the integrity of the silence in your eyes.<br>This is a seeing that has nothing to do with truth or lies<br>or the innovative causality of pain. Don't speak <br>of its release as enlightenment or liberation, <br>as if you were uncaging doves from the ashes of your voice.<br>Don't seek what has eluded you when you're cloaked <br>in an eyeless night like the screening myth of a lonely alibi. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And should it come time to speak of the sadness <br>don't humble the message at the expense of the medium you choose<br>to weep in when the hidden urges you into the open <br>like a dragonfly emerging from the hovel of a chrysalis <br>into a palace of air with the wingspan of your diaphanous windows<br>beaded in tears like the afterbirth of the rain <br>in the post-natal mirrors of your indefinable awareness of life <br>as the sweetest agony of sorrow transformed into bliss <br>you ever had to endure like the darkest night <br>of a sea change in the unforeseeable nature <br>of your inconceivable soul trying to emulate <br>the unknown likeness you shapeshift to accommodate<br>the arrival and departure of everything you've ever had to let go of<br>like summer stars, and waterbirds, and legendary ordeals of love<br>when the full moon so often filled the empty silos of your longing<br>with the unsuccessful harvests of hungry ghosts <br>that competed with the sparrows and the scarecrows <br>for the seeds of a garden the wind neglected to sow.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And should it come time to speak of the sadness <br>that saturates all human affairs in an aura of mourning <br>that hangs in the air like a mingling of swords and bells, <br>don't pretend your life was a nuclear winter of unrelieved misery <br>when everyone knows if it weren't for trying to cling to joy<br>or even the longing for it, you might have smiled your way <br>through everything like the cold stone of the moon. <br>Remember those thoughts that used to come <br>like snakeoil salesmen that greased their sinusoidal way<br>into your heart like coiled serpent fire that mesmerized you <br>like the blue bird of happiness on your own projections<br>until the promise wore thin, and all your ploys at joy <br>turned out to be nothing but the hucksterism of tapeworms? <br>And, then, as it sometimes happened more often in autumn <br>than spring, your heart soared like a guitar with a broken string<br>taking wing like a waterbird off your tears <br>until you burned out like a comet with an uplifting message <br>in a niche that was meant for candles with slower wicks? <br>That kept you hanging onto life like a burning box kite didn't it? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And should it come time to speak of the sadness <br>like a sin of omission that overpowers us all eventually<br>because the best things we promised ourselves <br>were never unattainable and the joy we sought and fought<br>and laboured for, and did not find, was barely explainable <br>even to us who became experts in grinding mirages into lenses <br>to reveal where it might be hiding somewhere in the universe <br>right under our noses. Up close and as intimate as our eyes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476472" data-title="And Should It Come Time To Speak Of The Sadness de Patrick White" data-description="And should it come time to speak of the sadness 
that reaches fruition in the medicine bag of the heart, 
don't bring a teacher that can't heal by singing and dancing 
to the wounded discipline of a lost art that's gone
into the sacred solitude of..."></div>
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