Amor Fati    

           By Jane Hirshfield            

    

 Little soul,

 you have wandered

 lost a long time.

 

The woods all dark now,

birded and eyed.

 

Then a light, a cabin, a fire, a door standing open.

   

The fairy tales warn you:

Do not go in,

you who would eat will be eaten.

 

You go in. You quicken.

You want to have feet.

                                          You want to have eyes.                                          

You want to have fears.