I have to go down

To reach the forest's heart,

Down alone

Through green darkness

Where sun streams only dreamily

Through shadowy trees.

But knowing the way,

I do not hesitate.

And when I can descend no more,

I find the others gathered,

Holding a place in the circle for me.

We cover the fire pit with moss,

And it becomes a pool-

Too deep, at first, for anyone to speak.

But soon we take each other's arms,

And Dougal leads us in a round.

We trust ourselves so wholly to the words

That they lift us as one body

And we rise in rocking dance,

Releasing with the sound,

Not stopping till we're spent.

Cathedral cedars hush about us,

Listening in silent witness,

We sit and pass the cup of hearts,

Sharing sorrows we feared would break us,

The grace we've felt reshape us.

Spirits, let the telling touch us,

Let it free the ancient grief,

Let it staunch the inner bleeding,

And leave us men enough to weep.

Frederic Sibley

Help us help men
Every $20 helps!

Articles | Men's Stories | Poetry | What's here? | Home Page | Search MenWeb | E-mail MenWeb

Press the "Back" button on your browser to return