In all our sanctuaries we sit at risk

My Way to You


I keep coming upon this poem in its folder, its digital “archive,” and it’s as if I’ve tripped up on it. It somehow sticks out, sitting meekly under “M” in its alphabetical order. But where really does it belong ? I never quite know what to make of it and yet I think it is possibly a poem I would like to be remembered by, if anything I’ve written proves worth the remembering.

And I’m still not even entirely sure what it means. Certainly, I remember that in the writing of it, I was aware of somehow blundering blindly along, and if there were any struggle involved in this, it was to allow the blundering to continue until it was finished with me. At no stage did I know what would be coming next, or where this was heading. There was no “You” I had in conscious mind.