“When you grow old,
you will stretch out your hands,
and someone else will fasten a belt around you
and take you where you do not wish to go.”
I am becoming free of youth’s illusion—
dragged about by my desires, calling it “freedom.”
More mature now, I outlast those hungers,
for deeper longings to well up from God
and lead me where I hadn’t thought of going,
hadn’t even seen.
The arctic tern doesn’t choose
to fly from the Netherlands to Antarctica,
or insist on the way.
She allows herself to be led
by a deeper wisdom
that knows more than she.
Don’t worry, fearful child.
The belt is love.