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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=477038" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Who Taught You</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who taught you to abhor the savage<br>within you<br>as if you were <br>an intolerant missionary to yourself? <br>Or walk into the room<br>and sit down <br>like a civilization that can't compose itself? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And what strange habits you have for eyes <br>like ominous seabirds off the coast <br>of the continent with nowhere to perch<br>you've just discovered about yourself<br>that doesn't bear your name.<br> <br>And o come on now<br>isn't it the most grievously wounded <br>who cry out the loudest <br>in their delirium of pain <br>and shake their wills <br>like steel at the ruthless heavens<br>though all they've ever really done is heal? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And why slash out in your anger <br>like the moon at everyone<br>when you should know by now <br>better than anyone <br>that whenever you do<br>it's the sword that bleeds to death? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">And you say you've tried to live decently <br>in an indecent world<br>but it's a shame<br>you've never walked barefoot anywhere <br>without your morals in your hand like shoes.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That's just the mud and water of it<br>between your fingers and your toes <br>but I've never joined a Buddha <br>eating flowers for lunch <br>who would have it any other way.<br> <br>Or as Solomon said to so and so, <br>on his way to the temple <br>to set an example, <br>half a baby isn't the same as a whole bunch.<br>And then broke down in tears.<br> <br>We all have our fears and illusions <br>but isn't so much suffering in the world <br>generated by the fact <br>we cherish our misery <br>like self-inflicted voodoo dolls <br>we won't let go of <br>because nothing else <br>looks like us into the void<br>and sees nothing that looks like us <br>looking back with stars in their eyes? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But what a surprise to be here at all <br>stepping in and out <br>of these coffins and lifeboats<br>paired like shoes under our beds<br>where they gape<br>like mouths before the open sea <br>that has washed them ashore<br>like dust out of its one good eye<br>we just flew into <br>like birds against a windowpane.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And even more of a wonder <br>is the day you discover<br>you can taste the full harvest <br>in every crumb of a dream <br>and even in the lamp <br>that's gone out in the night <br>clarity is still faster than light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Within you I swear <br>on all that is human<br>are worlds within worlds <br>like the spherical mirrors of the morning <br>hanging their eyes like jewels <br>in the webs of the dreamcatchers <br>that looked everywhere <br>through the spiritual lost and founds of the light <br>but couldn't find us until nightfall <br>when we each came out like a star <br>above our own manger<br>and the darkness was sweet with gifts.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The blind don't diminish <br>the brightness of the mirror<br>when they hold themselves <br>up to it like a shadow <br>and even when your eyes are open <br>you don't add a feather of light to the shining<br>though you burn like Icarus without a starmap <br>by flying too near the sun<br>beyond the heels of your aspiration.<br> <br>And even when we are crazed moths <br>in a straitjackets of flesh<br>seeking asylum in the fire, <br>isn't it the Promethean nature <br>of every living creature<br>that has ever stolen from the gods<br>even in a state of ashes <br>not to be bound for long by anything <br>that isn't out of reach? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's not the art of a petty life <br>to know how to long <br>for the impossible for years <br>without disappointment<br>knowing that if appearances <br>can be deceptive <br>then so must be the illusion <br>when anything disappears.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The important thing is not <br>to try to attain anything <br>by reaching out<br>a finger shy of God<br>for things like life and love and light<br>as if you were a dead battery<br>asking the stars for a jumpstart<br>when one of the myriad truths <br>of the dark matter at hand is<br>you don't have to work hard <br>to earn your own gifts<br>like a beggar in a palace<br>that doesn't recognize her own face<br>looking down upon her <br>like her own reflection in the heavens, <br>as if her eyes always had to go <br>in the same place either side of her nose <br>and couldn't flow along <br>with the shoreless starstreams <br>like easy fish dopaddling through space.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if you must cry out<br>like an insatiable mirror <br>for things you've lost<br>or pine at the gate <br>of your own homelessness <br>like a long sad farewell<br>to all those things that never came<br>like the sea to your feet <br>as if every wave <br>were meant to fit you <br>like a glass slipper, <br> <br>then I suggest<br>with only a whisper <br>of night in my voice <br>to tempt the light out of hiding <br>that the next time you cry<br>like a wounded sword <br>that no longer divides <br>the empty grotto of the pain<br>that separates lovers <br>like two halves of the same brain, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">look up at the nightsky<br>as if you were looking into the eyes <br>of your own prophetic tears <br>and see and be more deeply <br>than any kind of telescope <br>or wishing well <br>in every single one of them<br>the dark pregnant mother <br>of the billion chandeliers<br>that hang like stars above you.</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=477038" data-title="Who Taught You de Patrick White" data-description="Who taught you to abhor the savage
within you
as if you were 
an intolerant missionary to yourself? 
Or walk into the room
and sit down 
like a civilization that can't compose itself? 

And what strange habits you have for eyes 
like ominous seabi..."></div>
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