I sat by a creek on my 40th birthday with tears running down my face, reading this line from MAMEEN by David Whyte, and thinking about loss and the cycles we repeat.

Be infinitessimal under that sky, a creature

even the sailing hawk misses, a wraith

among the rocks where the mist parts slowly.

Don’t you want to be someone even the sailing hawk misses? I do. Every line of this poem resonates deep in my bones. 

We are not unique in our loss. If there’s anything that unites us all as humans it is that. But we can still cry by the creek, wonder how we got here and where we’re going, and know that every person we’ve loved is imprinted into our very cells. We carry them with us always.

You can read the full poem HERE. I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments.