[Here’s a poem by an alumna that speaks to a theme that has seemed very important lately]:
Wait
it’s morning now
I sit down
settle in
light a candle,
and wait
a friend comes to greet me
and I pour out my questions
like hot water over tea leaves
and together,
we wait
other writers guide us
from this poem to that one
a quote here, some words there
all these paradoxes rise and fall
like our ribs as we breathe,
and we wait
only if you are patient
with your questions
only when you cease
the frantic quest
for some certainty
that will cement your faith
only as you wait
still as the oak for her lark
to come home again
to nest in her branches
wait here, just wait
wait with the questions,
sit down and wait
and maybe, maybe you will find
it’s not the answers that you seek
but the questions themselves
the only way you know how to live
and maybe, maybe you will see
that even without the answers
you can go on
accepting as a gift
each moment of grace
accepting as a gift
each mystery and absurdity
accepting as a gift
all the joy and all the frustration
of understanding you will never stop asking
and understanding you will never know
and understanding it’s okay to let go
you do not need what once you sought
that capricious little beast, certainty
- Ash