1152. Sometimes - David Whyte

Sometimes

if you move carefully

through the forest,

breathing

like the ones 

in the old stories,

who could cross

a shimmering bed of leaves

without a sound,

you come

to a place 

whose only task

is to trouble you

with tiny

but frightening requests,

conceived out of nowhere

but in this place

beginning to lead everywhere.

Requests to stop what

you are doing right now,

and

to stop what you

are becoming

while you do it,

questions

that can make

or unmake

a life,

questions

that have patiently 

waited for you,

questions

that have no right

to go away.