Wednesday, June 20, 2012

the grace of perfect danger


by John O'Donohue

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.

To begin the day quietly, in waiting, listening.  

A quotation from the letters of Boris Pasternak and Olga Ivinskaya:

"When a great moment knocks on the door of your life, its sound is often no louder than the beating of your heart and it is very easy to miss it."

As I write this, a bird sings violently persistently and its song enters my study with such force.  


  1. I find each time I come to your blog, I have been fed, encouraged, inspired, motivated, comforted........I could muse and meditate and go deeply into what you share on just one day for a much longer time. Then a new day comes with more! The combined beauty of your photos and thoughts, their abundance, arriving with no effort on my part, are gifts to me each day and a joy that causes my heart to soar.

  2. I rather needed to hear this today, Edna : ) with thanks, Shawna


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