The Art of Becoming
by Kimberly Phinney
THE ART OF BECOMING
When it’s time to become,
you must start with a humble somewhere…
You don’t know exactly where you are going,
but there is a knowing…
so you follow the path before you.
And soon, there comes this pulling:
a “This way!”
and a “That way!”
And you aren’t quite sure
which voice is yours…
or who to listen to
among the shadows
and the sun-slits between the trees.
So, sometimes you cannot see
which way to go
or which fork or bend
will lead you home.
Life can be so beautiful,
and life can be so very mean.
The path seems clear each afternoon,
then impossible by evening.
Yes, it gets so very dark each night,
as the light drops past the earth.
and you have your doubts
you wrestle with
—but even still, you persist.
All of this is true
because you are still becoming…
and coming home to something…
A small smudge on the page,
made into a form
—only the Artist truly knows.
And though you walk the path alone,
you know deep-down
inside your soul,
that you aren’t alone—
“You aren’t alone.”
Your story is taking shape,
as the cold breeze shakes
the leaves awake
—to color.
It’s filling in:
a black line here,
a brush stork there,
golden hues
and amber leaves
with birchwood trees
to rest against…
and down the road
—a home awaits you.
You can see the smokestack now,
just beyond the clearing.
You can hear the voices singing,
“Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound…”
And then you know:
Home was within you all along,
as it stretched out far before you,
calling you beyond yourself...
And all the while,
in every step you took,
the Artist looked on in love:
“You were never alone, my child—
not at all, not once”