The Whisper

(With thanks to Mary Oliver)

It's today and finally
I begin
though inside and
out I hear
the usual voices shout
"I Need!" "You Must!"
and my legs are shaking,
lassoed by threads
of very good duties.

As the poet says:

"It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones."

These other calls
come from ahead
reach back to lift me if I like
as I trip and stumble over
rubble and tear away
at tiny twines
fall down make a mess
and hear finally

The whisper of my own shaky voice:

"I need!"
"I must!"