When near the end of the day, life has drained
Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things
No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might com.
In this wan light, even trees seem groundless.
In a while it will be night, but nothing
Here seems to believe the relief of dark.
You are in this time of the interim
Where everything seems withheld.
The path you took to get here has washed out;
The way forward is still concealed from you.
"The old is not old enough to have died away;
The new is still too young to be born."
You cannot lay claim to anything;
In this place of dusk,
Your eyes are blurred;
and there is no mirror.
Everyone else has lost sight of your heart
And you can see nowhere to put your trust;
You know you have to make your own way through.
As far as you can, hold your confidence.
Do not allow your confusion to squander
This call which is loosening
Your roots in false ground,
That you might come free
From all you have outgrown.
What is being transfigured here is your mind,
and it is difficult and slow to become new.
The more faithfully you can endure here,
The more refined your heart will become
For your arrival in the new dawn.
-John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us.
-Out of light, and it is too soon
For the mind of night to have darkened things
No place looks like itself, loss of outline
Makes everything look strangely in-between,
Unsure of what has been, or what might com.
In this wan light, even trees seem groundless.
In a while it will be night, but nothing
Here seems to believe the relief of dark.
You are in this time of the interim
Where everything seems withheld.
The path you took to get here has washed out;
The way forward is still concealed from you.
"The old is not old enough to have died away;
The new is still too young to be born."
You cannot lay claim to anything;
In this place of dusk,
Your eyes are blurred;
and there is no mirror.
Everyone else has lost sight of your heart
And you can see nowhere to put your trust;
You know you have to make your own way through.
As far as you can, hold your confidence.
Do not allow your confusion to squander
This call which is loosening
Your roots in false ground,
That you might come free
From all you have outgrown.
What is being transfigured here is your mind,
and it is difficult and slow to become new.
The more faithfully you can endure here,
The more refined your heart will become
For your arrival in the new dawn.
-John O'Donohue, To Bless the Space Between Us.
I love John O'Donohue, and Amazon.ca for recommending him to me based on my previous purchases. SUCH a good impulse buy, and not only because it got me free shipping. When I find time to write in my own journal, which is a lot lately, I always start with some quote or poem that makes me reflect. More often than not lately it's been from John O'Donohue. If you get a chance, you really should check him out.
I feel a bit like I'm in an interim time. I'm not sure where I want my life to go after I get my degree. Sometimes I need to go back overseas so badly that I feel like I'm going to throw up. Other times I want to get a dog and buy a proper bed and stay here forever.
I think it's a 24-quarterlife thing, but maybe also a fall thing. So many times this fall, crunching home through the leaves in the park, life just seems so beautiful and full of potential that I feel like I'm about to jump out of my skin. Other times though, the cold air and rapidly baring trees are so sadly beautiful I find that tears start welling up.
I'm torn a lot about a lot of things right now. But the awesome thing is that this fall for the first time in a long time I've felt really present in my life. I may be spending too much time listening to french jazz, taking bubble baths and roasting squash, and I'm definitely spending too little time on my school work, but I'm really here every minute. It feels happy and sad and tired and crazy and exciting. I like it.
I can't resist one more from John O'Donohue.
Beannacht - Blessing
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the curtain frays
in the currah of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the curtain frays
in the currah of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
3 comments:
I like this poetry. Also, I sometimes feel like I want a proper bed too...but then I fall onto my "pallet bed" and think it might be overrated.
I love that you are feeling present in your life. I have been feeling the opposite, maybe you are making up for my lack of it. Hm.
i like this. i like you.
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