David Whyte Poems

David Whyte Poems (A Collection of Lovely Whyte Poems)

Only a few years after releasing Songs for Coming Home, his first collection of poems, David Whyte Poems didn’t start until 1986.

David Whyte Poems

David Whyte Poems

Many works of poetry and prose have been written by David Whyte. In the hills and valleys of his father’s Yorkshire, he grew up under the powerful, creative influence of his Irish mother.

He presently resides in the Pacific Northwest region of the country. He has experience working as a naturalist guide in the Galapagos Islands and has a degree in marine zoology.

In this article, we have compiled an amazing collection of David Whyte poems which promises to be interesting.

1. Sweet Darkness By David Whyte

When your eyes are tired

 the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone,

 no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark

 where the night has eyes

 to recognize its own.

There you can be sure

 you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your home


The night will give you a horizon

 further than you can see.

You must learn one thing.

 The world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds

 except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet

 confinement of your aloneness

 to learn

anything or anyone

 that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.


2. Finisterre By David Whyte

The road in the end taking the path the sun had taken,

 into the western sea, and the moon rising behind you

 as you stood where ground turned to ocean: no way

 to your future now but the way your shadow could take,

 walking before you across water, going where shadows go,

 no way to make sense of a world that wouldn’t let you pass

 except to call an end to the way you had come,

 to take out each frayed letter you had brought

 and light their illumined corners; and to read

 them as they drifted on the western light;

 to empty your bags; to sort this and to leave that;

 to promise what you needed to promise all along,

 and to abandon the shoes that had brought you here

 right at the water’s edge, not because you had given up

 but because now, you would find a different way to tread,

 and because, through it all, part of you would still walk on,

 no matter how, over the waves

3. Stone By David Whyte

The face in the stone is a mirror looking into you.

 You have gazed into the moving waters,

 you have seen the slow light, in the sky

 above Lough Inagh, beneath you, streams have flowed,

 and rivers of earth have moved beneath your feet,

 but you have never looked into the immovability

 of stone like this, the way it holds you, gives you

 not a way forward but a doorway in, staunches

 your need to leave, becomes faithful by going nowhere,

 something that wants you to stay here and look back,

 be weathered by what comes to you, like the way you too

 have travelled from so far away to be here, once reluctant

 and now as solid and as here and as willing

 to be touched as everything you have found.


4. No One Told Me By David Whyte

 No one told me

it would lead to this.

 No one said

 there would be secrets

 I would not want to know.

No one told me about seeing,

 seeing brought me

 loss and a darkness I could not hold.

No one told me about writing

 or speaking.

 Speaking and writing poetry

 I unsheathed the sharp edge

 of experience that led me here.

No one told me

 it could not be put away.

 I was told once, only,

 in a whisper,

 “The blade is so sharp—

 It cuts things together

 —not apart.”

This is no comfort.

 My future is full of blood,

 from being blindfold,

 hands outstretched,

 feeling a way along its firm edge.

5. Working Together By David Whyte

We shape our self

 to fit this world

and by the world

 are shaped again.

The visible

 and the invisible

working together

 in common cause,

to produce

 the miraculous.

I am thinking of the way

 the intangible air

traveled at speed

 round a shaped wing


 holds our weight.

So may we, in this life


to those elements

 we have yet to see

or imagine,

 and look for the true

shape of our own self,

 by forming it well

to the great

 intangibles about us.


6. Everything Is Waiting For You By David Whyte

After Derek Mahon

 Your great mistake is to act the drama

 as if you were alone. As if life

 were a progressive and cunning crime

 with no witness to the tiny hidden

 transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny

 the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,

 even you, at times, have felt the grand array;

 the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding

 out your solo voice. You must note

 the way the soap dish enables you,

 or the window latch grants you freedom.

 Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.

 The stairs are your mentor of things

 to come, the doors have always been there

 to frighten you and invite you,

 and the tiny speaker in the phone

 is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into the

 conversation. The kettle is singing

 even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots

 have left their arrogant aloofness and

 seen the good in you at last. All the birds

 and creatures of the world are unutterably

 themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

We hope this article on David Whyte poems has been worth the read. Please endeavor to share this article with family, friends, and colleagues. Cheers.

Daily Time Poems.

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