The White Dove

love has asked me to kneel by the window of an unflighted sky

Photo: © David Whyte

The White Dove

When I first
wrote to you
it was as if
each letter
I held in my palms
was like
a small white
dove
I had to lift
toward the sky
and let go
and that once
it had arrived
calling
quietly
at the edge
of your high window
you only had to write
your own words
and fold them small
and tie them
to each leg
and lift
the white bird …