Tuesday Poem

Become Becoming

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Wait for evening.
Then you’ll be alone.

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Wait for the playground to empty.
Then call out those companions from childhood:

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The one who closed his eyes
and pretended to be invisible.
The one to whom you told every secret.
The one who made a world of any hiding place.

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And don’t forget the one who listened in silence
while you wondered out loud:

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Is the universe an empty mirror?  A flowering tree?
Is the universe the sleep of a woman?

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Wait for the sky’s last blue
(the color of your homesickness).
Then you’ll know the answer.

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Wait for the air’s first old (that color of Amen).
Then you’ll spy the wind’ barefoot steps.

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Then you’ll recall that story beginning
with a child who strays in the woods.

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The search for him goes on in the growing
shadow of the clock.

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And the face behind the clock’s face
is not his father’s face.

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And the hands behind the clock’s hands
are not his mother’s hands.

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All of Time began when you first answered
to the names your mother and father gave you.

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Soon, those names will travel with the leaves.
Then, you can trade places with the wind.

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Then you’ll remember your life
as a book of candles,
each page read by the light of its own burning.

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by Li-Young Lee
from Behind My Eyes