Return to the Most Human by May Sarton
Return to the most human,
nothing less will nourish the torn spirit,
the bewildered heart,
the angry mind:
and from the ultimate duress,
pierced with the breath of anguish,
speak of love.
Return, return to the deep sources,
nothing less will teach the stiff hands a new way to serve,
to carve into our lives the forms of tenderness
and still that ancient necessary pain preserve.
Return to the most human,
nothing less will teach the angry spirit,
the bewildered heart;
the torn mind,
to accept the whole of its duress,
and pierced with anguish…
at last, act for love.
Winter and Spring,
Lent and Easter,
the Hero’s and Heroine’s Journeys,
the Bodhisattvas, who, once enlightened, choose to stay on earth to accompany us,
the under- and over-world travel of shamans and goddesses throughout time…
This paradox of season and cycle, of rhythmic journey has meaning.
We are again and again invited
to return to the most human—
both in our deep-diving
and in our high-flying.
We go down, we go in, we go through.
We stay. We keep vigil. We are held.
We are shown the way—sometimes
only one step at a time.
The way of being human includes all of this.
Darkness. The torn spirit. The bewildered heart. The angry mind.
Light. The rejoicing spirit. The grateful heart. The blissful mind.
The Unknown-ness. The Mystery. The I-don’t-know-how-ness.
For only in this most human place,
lovingly abiding with our darkness,
can the body be a chalice
connecting earth and heaven,
so that we can at last arise and act for love.