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The On Being Project

“No One Told Me”

No one told me
 it would lead to this.
 No one said
 there would be secrets
 I would not want to know.

No one told me about seeing,
 seeing brought me
 loss and a darkness I could not hold.

No one told me about writing
 or speaking.
 Speaking and writing poetry
 I unsheathed the sharp edge
 of experience that led me here.

No one told me
 it could not be put away.
 I was told once, only,
 in a whisper,
 “The blade is so sharp—
 It cuts things together
 —not apart.”

This is no comfort.
 My future is full of blood,
 from being blindfold,
 hands outstretched,
 feeling a way along its firm edge.

This poem is excerpted with permission from David Whyte’s collection of poetry, River Flow: New & Selected Poems. For more poetry, visit our Poetry Radio Project.


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