If you read last week’s post, you know that I have been spending time resting in the space of no-Thing, emptying-emptying-emptying. . . .
I have also been paying attention to what fills my thoughts, my body, my time, my imagination. . . .
Recently I recommitted to the first words that I read or speak each day being those of a blessing or a poem. Below is one that feeds me well.
Thank you for your presence here.
FOR THE ARTIST AT THE START OF THE 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.
My 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, from TO BLESS THE SPACE BETWEEN US
photo: Thank you to my friend Simon for this gorgeous sunrise photo!