Three times my life has opened.
Once, into darkness and rain.
Once, into what the body carries at all times within it and
starts to remember each time it enters the act of love.
Once, to the fire that holds all.
These three were not different.
You will recognize what I am saying or you will not.
But outside my window all day a maple has stepped
from her leaves like a woman in love with winter, dropping
the colored silks.
Neither are we different in what we know.
There is a door. It opens. Then it is closed. But a slip of
light stays, like a scrap of unreadable paper left on the floor,
or the one red leaf the snow releases in March.
– Jane Hirshfield, from The Lives of the Heart: Poems
3 thoughts on ““Three Times My Life Has Opened” by Jane Hirshfield”
Isn’t it, Archita? I enjoy both its mystery and simplicity. Hope you’ve been well and that your holidays have been happy and peaceful. Love, Christy
Sent from my iPhone
I actually clicked a picture during thanksgiving and the poem reminded me of that moment. Words can be so soothing right? I hope you’re doing well, Christy. Thank you for introducing me to another beautiful world! 🙂
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