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 in To Bless The Space Between Us
Spirituality Without Borders: Reflections on Spiritual Practice 
Whew! How beautiful and powerful! Thank you!
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My pleasure. O’Donohue was such a gifted poet and spiritually adept.
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Ah, “to reach beyond imitation and the wheel of repetition” and to allow that true original to arise! Sometimes it seems impossible, and yet in those precious moments when we “slip the stickybweb of the personal” – ah, how magical! How wonderful! For these moments we perserve, don’t we? 🙂
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Thank you for contributing so richly to the conversation with your comment, Amy. It reminds me of a friend’s response to Pat Conroy ‘s new autobiography, “I was so wishing that his art would heal him.”
Sent from my Kindle Fire
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*persevere! 🙂
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A lovely poem. Thank-you for visiting my blog and liking one of my posts.
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Not quite the poet’s phrasing. Below is more accurate except for the quatrain: “Until the veil of the unknown yields
And something original begins To stir toward your senses And grow stronger in your heart” which I could not get to space correctly. THANK YOU, BLESS YOPU for posting.
Blessing 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 imagaination 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 in To Bless The Space Between Us
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Thank you, Phil, for taking the time to do this. It is a joy for me to revisit the poem.
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Well, that didn’t print correctly either. Sorry
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