Cutting Loose by William Stafford

Cutting Loose
by William Stafford

Sometimes from sorrow, for no reason,
you sing. For no reason, you accept
the way of being lost, cutting loose
from all else and electing a world
where you go where you want to.

Arbitrary, a sound comes, a reminder
that a steady center is holding
all else. If you listen, that sound
will tell you where it is and you
can slide your way past trouble.

Certain twisted monsters
always bar the path -- but that's when
you get going best, glad to be lost,
learning how real it is
here on earth, again and again.

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This was sent to me by a friend, which I so appreciated, in the midst of a dark time. Like Cavafy’s Ithaka, the monsters are part of the path, and I have found this to be true for me again and again, how real it is to be lost and find my footing, at home almost best amidst uncertainty, how much I’ve learned how much the center can hold. I’m so grateful for this Stafford piece, and for the ways that poems find their way into my life.