September 2010<\/p>\n
For the Artist at the Start of Day<\/p>\n
May morning be astir with the harvest of night;
\nYour mind quickening to the eros of a new question,
\nYour eyes seduced by some unintended glimpse<\/p>\n
That cut right through the surface to a source.
\nMay this be a morning of innocent beginning,
\nWhen the gift within you slips clear
\nOf the sticky web of the personal
\nWith its hurt and its hauntings,
\nAnd fixed fortress corners,<\/p>\n
A Morning when you become a pure vessel
\nFor what wants to ascend from silence,<\/p>\n
May your imagination know
\nThe grace of perfect danger,<\/p>\n
To reach beyond imitation,
\nAnd the wheel of repetition,<\/p>\n
Deep into the call of all
\nThe unfinished and unsolved<\/p>\n
Until the veil of the unknown yields
\nAnd something original begins
\nTo stir toward your senses
\nAnd grow stronger in your heart<\/p>\n
In order to come to birth
\nIn a clean line of form,
\nThat claims from time
\nA rhythm not yet heard,
\nThat calls space to
\nA different shape.<\/p>\n
May it be its own force field
\nAnd dwell uniquely
\nBetween the heart and the light<\/p>\n
To surprise the hungry eye
\nBy how deftly it fits
\nAbout its secret loss.<\/p>\n
~ John O’Donohue ~<\/p>\n\n\t\t