“This Poem Belongs to You” by David Whyte

This poem
belongs to you
and is already finished,

it was begun years ago
and I put it away

knowing it would come
into the world
in its own time.

In fact
you have already read it,
and closing the pages
of the book,

you are now
abandoning the projects
of the day and putting on
your shoes and coat
to take a walk.

It has been long years
since you felt like this.

You have remembered
what I remembered,
when I first began to write.

David Whyte
from The House of Belonging 
©2007 Many Rivers Press


Happy Holidays and Merry Christmas, everyone. I look forward to seeing you in the new year when we shall, simply, begin again  . . .  ~Christy  (Happy Birthday, Mom, I miss you every day.)


17 thoughts on ““This Poem Belongs to You” by David Whyte

    1. Oh the year would go just as it was supposed to go, Pierre.

      I guess I was supposed to share Whyte’s lines, and I guess you were supposed to read them today. I’m glad you did. An avalanche of smiles to you and yours.


    1. Ooh festive frolics….I like that! Funny story…we have a baby deer orphaned on our property. It’s taken up with our 2 donkeys, and we’ve been feeding it until it gets old enough to move on…. today I saw it running and prancing around the back field and I said to my husband, “Look! It’s frolicking!” I’m not sure I could tell you the last time I’d used that word. What a very cool little coincidence. 🙂 x


    1. Dear Jean,
      Thank YOU for still being here.
      I never really left, I just wandered for a bit.
      I may easily lose track of time, but I eventually wander back home.
      Thanks for leaving the light on.
      Christy Jones


  1. strumsky

    Thanks for remembering, too, you, as well as for the words and thoughts you remind me about. It wouldn’t have been right somehow to enter winter’s solstice alone as I always am, trying to dump all the baggage, throwing the “babies” out with the flood of bathwater this past year has dumped… I keep nearly forgetting what I should keep, what I need, which is not just poems (they scamper back and stay with me regardless) but the bringers of poems, one of whom you are. It’s a double gift of kindness and grace, to me. Much love, Christy,

    Liked by 1 person

    1. So I have one of these page-a-day type calendars on my writing desk. You know the kind you can just rip off the day and a new one waits right behind it? (The way some people treat life, I suppose…) This was some cutsey inspirational type calendar and as I’ve not done much writing or poetry curating lately, the calendar was stalled out, let’s just say, for several weeks… enough so that instead of ripping off a page a day, I could rip off weeks at a time. My dilemma was, do I go back and read each day? save them for a rainy day? or just scrap them all and simply begin again? I’ve never been very good at letting go and when I do, I tend to toss the entire bathtub—babies, bathwater, rubber duckies and all. But life is too short and the lessons too few, so I decided to save the days, even though I cannot go back and re-live them, I can at least acknowledge them, I can maybe even remember them, while I am still able to remember, and maybe a few of the little cutsey inspirational messages will click and stick in my heart (as many of my dear friends and readers have done–clicked and sticked) and maybe those messages–and people–will reconnect me to some of the beauty I have been missing, to the beauty I am remembering.

      The point of my whole message? Who the heck knows. Other than to say that I am remembering, and I am learning what to hold on to, and what to let go of. I think it’s a life-long journey –“always we begin again”–and the older I get, the longer I wish the journey to continue.

      You, David, are a sticker and a clicker.

      PS- the cutsey saying from the calendar for Dec. 21? “Work to become … not to acquire.”

      Liked by 1 person

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