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 canvas frays
in the currach 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 so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.

--John O'Donohue

[Photo of Lowell Lake, Londonderry, VT]

Tobar Phadraic (Patrick's Well)

Turn sideways into the light as they say
the old ones did and disappear
into the originality of it all.

Be impatient with easy explanations
and teach that part of the mind
that wants to know everything
not to begin questions it cannot answer.

Walk the green road above the bay
and the low glinting fields
toward the evening sun, let that Atlantic
gleam be ahead of you and the gray light
of the bay below you, until you catch,
down on your left, the break in the wall,
for just above in the shadows
you’ll find it hidden, a curved arm
of rock holding the water close to the mountain,
a just-lit surface smoothing a scattering of coins,
and in the niche above, notes to the dead
and supplications for those who still live
.
But for now, you are alone with the transfiguration
and ask no healing for your own
but look down as if looking through time,
as if through a rent veil from the other
side of the question you’ve refused to ask.

And you remember now, that clear stream
of generosity from which you drank,
how as a child your arms could rise and your palms
turn out to take the blessing of the world.

--David Whyte

[Poulnabrone dolmen, a megalithic portal tomb, on the Burren in County Clare, Ireland]

Where I'm From

 

I am from clothespins, 
from Clorox and carbon tetrachloride. 
I am from the dirt under the back porch. 
(Black, glistening 
it tasted like beets.) 
I am from the forsythia bush, 
the Dutch elm 
whose long gone limbs I remember 
as if they were my own. 

I’m from fudge and eyeglasses, 
from Imogene and Alafair. 
I’m from the know-it-alls and the pass-it-ons, 
from perk up and pipe down. 
I’m from He restoreth my soul with a cottonball lamb 
and ten verses I can say myself. 

I’m from Artemus and Billie’s Branch, 
fried corn and strong coffee. 
From the finger my grandfather lost to the auger 
the eye my father shut to keep his sight. 
Under my bed was a dress box 
spilling old pictures, 
a sift of lost faces 
to drift beneath my dreams. 

I am from those moments– 
snapped before I budded– 
leaf-fall from the family tree

--George Ella Lyon

[Baby photo with my Grandmother and Mother]

friendship

 

in those quiet hours

when dreams are born

and restless

visions haze:

in that sleepy place

i step out

and walk

through a timeless

maze.

it's at this place

where I see your face:

your image

lingers there.

i walk the

places we have

walked and

remember sweetly

where we've talked

of princes, kingdoms,

pain, thoughts of

growing old

and wisdom

brought at the

price of our youth.

             in those quiet hours

             i think of you.

--Maryanne Radmacher

[Print of this poem was given to me by my best friend since high school, Julie).

Not Knowing

 Sometimes you have to leave

what you think you know

behind.

No one ever really wants to do this.

Knowing things

thinking we know things

can be very comforting.

All day, soul whispers

what I need to know.

I don't hear her 

until I lay aside

cherished beliefs and assumptions

until I dare to be with the not-knowing.

And then...

Well, that's the risky part, isn't it?

There is no telling what living an ensouled life

might ask of us.

--Oriah "Mountain Dreamer" House

Matins

 I arise today

Blessed by all things,
Wings of breath,
Delight of eyes,
Wonder of whisper,
Intimacy of touch,
Eternity of soul,
Urgency of thought,
Miracle of health,

Embrace of God.

May I live this day

Compassionate of heart,
Clear in word,
Gracious in awareness,
Courageous in thought,
Generous in love.

--John O'Donohue

(Excerpt from "Matins'" in To Bless the Space Between Us)

I want to age like sea glass

I want to age like sea glass. 

Smoothed by tides, not broken. 

I want to ride the waves, go with the flow and feel the impact of the surging tides.

When I am caught between the rocks and a hard place, I will rest. 

And when I am ready, I will catch a wave and let it carry me where I belong.

I want to be picked up and held gently by those who delight in my well-earned patina, 

And appreciate the changes I went through to achieve this luster.

I want to enjoy the journey and let my preciousness be, not in spite of the impacts,

But because of them. 

I want to age like sea glass.

--Bernadette Noll

------------------------  (Full version)----------------------------------

I want to age like sea glass. Smoothed by tides, not broken. I want the currents of life to toss me around, shake me up and leave me feeling washed clean.  I want my hard edges to soften as the years pass – made not weak but supple.  I want to ride the waves, go with the flow, feel the impact of the surging tides rolling in and out.

When I am thrown against the shore and caught between the rocks and a hard place, I want to rest there until I can find the strength to do what is next.  Not stuck – just waiting, pondering, feeling what it feels like to pause.  And when I am ready, I will catch a wave and let it carry me along to the next place that I am supposed to be.

I want to be picked up on occasion by an unsuspected soul and carried along – just for the connection, just for the sake of appreciation and wonder. And with each encounter, new possibilities of collaboration are presented, and new ideas are born.

I want to age like sea glass so that when people see the old woman I’ll become, they’ll embrace all that I am. They’ll marvel at my exquisite nature, hold me gently in their hands and be awed by my well-earned patina.  Neither flashy nor dull, just a perfect luster. And they’ll wonder, if just for a second, what it is exactly I am made of and how I got to this very here and now. And we’ll both feel lucky to be in that perfectly right place at that profoundly right time.

I want to age like sea glass. I want to enjoy the journey and let my preciousness be, not in spite of the impacts of life, but because of them.

--Bernadette Noll