The Journey,

by Mary Oliver

​

 

 

One day you finally knew

 

 

what you had to do, and began,

 

 

though the voices around you

 

 

kept shouting

 

 

their bad advice–though the whole house

 

 

began to tremble

 

 

and you felt the old tug

 

 

at your ankles.

 

 

“Mend my life!” each voice cried.

 

 

But you didn’t stop. You knew what you had to do,

 

 

though the wind pried

 

 

with its stiff fingers at the very foundations,

 

 

though their melancholy

 

 

was terrible. It was already late enough, and a wild night,

 

 

and the road full of fallen

 

 

branches and stones.

 

 

But little by little,

 

 

as you left their voices behind,

 

 

the stars began to burn

 

 

through the sheets of clouds,

 

 

and there was a new voice

 

 

which you slowly

 

 

recognized as your own,

 

 

that kept you company

 

 

as you strode deeper and deeper

 

 

into the world,

 

 

determined to do

 

 

the only thing you could do–

 

 

determined to save

 

 

the only life you could save.

​

​