a poem and some lights

Photograph by Rune Guneriussen

For the Artist at the Start of the Day
A poem 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 clear 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.

As you enter into the rhythms of Fall (and for many - a season of work, study or busyness), may you become "a pure vessel for what wants to ascend from silence." And may your senses be stirred and your light shine brighter as you partake in our church community.

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