I refuse to become a seeker for cures.
Everything that has ever
helped me has come through what already
lay stored in me. 
 Old things, diffuse, unnamed, lie strong
across my heart.
This is from where
my strength comes, even when I miss my strength,
even when it turns on me
like a violent master. 

From "Sources" by poet Adrienne Rich, who passed away last week.

1 comment:

Linda said...

Adrienne Rich passed away??? I hadn't heard! :(

My favorite, from "November 1968"-- The Fact of a Doorframe collection.

You're what the autumn
knew would happen
after the last collapse
pf primary color
once the last absolutes
were torn to pieces
you could begin

How you broke open,
what sheathed you
until this moment
I know nothing about it
my ignorance of you amazes me
now that I watch you
starting to give yourself away
to the wind


She will be missed. I love her work, and also Marge Piercy.