Blogs & Vlogs

What we're talking about

Mar 24, 2015

For the Artist at the Start of Day

May morning be astir with the harvest of night;


Your mind quickening to the eros of a new question,


Your eyes seduced by some unintended glimpse


That cut right through the surface to a source.

 

May this be a morning of innocent beginning,


When the gift within you slips clear


Of the sticky web of the personal


With its hurt and its hauntings,


And fixed fortress corners

 

A Morning when you become a pure vessel


For what wants to ascend from silence


May your imagination know
The grace of perfect danger,

To reach beyond imitation,
And the wheel of repetition

Deep into the call of all


The unfinished and unsolved

 

Until the veil of the unknown yields


And something original begins


To stir toward your senses


And grow stronger in your heart

In order to come to birth
In a clean line of form,


That claims from time


A rhythm not yet heard,


That calls space to
A different shape.


May it be its own force field


And dwell uniquely


Between the heart and the light

To surprise the hungry eye


By how deftly it fits


About its secret loss.

 

John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings