Let your life be the poem
you write.
Let your heart be the
portrait you paint.
~ Bonkonon ~
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)
(left button to play, right button
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