The Place Where We Are Right
Someone shared this poem with me recently, and it resonated on a lot of levels. Because of the author, the immediate connection is with the middle east, but it applies just as well to person-to-person relationships.
The Place Where We Are Right
From the place where we are right
Flowers will never grow
In the spring.
The place where we are right
Is hard and trampled
Like a yard.
But doubts and loves
Dig up the world
Like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place
Where the ruined
House once stood.
— Yehuda Amichai
August 11th, 2006 at 2:48 pm
I am reminded of a story. I myself am a pastor’s kid, and when I mentioned this to an acquaintance he mentioned that he was also a pastor’s kid. He said, “My father used to say — and I’ve forgiven him, by the way — that his finest life’s work was his children. That was before my brother went into rehab.”
Thanks for the poem.