Born quietly from deepest night,
It hid its face in light,
Demanded nothing for itself,
Opened out to offer each of us
A field of brightness that traveled ahead,
Providing in time, ground to hold our footsteps
And the light of thought to show the way.
The mind of the day draws no attention;
It dwells within the silence with elegance
To create a space for all our words,
Drawing us to listen inward and outward.
We seldom notice how each day is a holy place
Where the eucharist of the ordinary happens,
Transforming our broken fragments
Into an eternal continuity that keeps us.
Somewhere in us a dignity presides
That is more gracious than the smallness
That fuels us with fear and force,
A dignity that trusts the form a day takes.
So at the end of this day, we give thanks
For being betrothed to the unknown
And for the secret work
Through which the mind of the day
And wisdom of the soul become one.
-John O'Donohue
(© John O’Donohue. All rights reserved)
True gifts are those offered without demand for attention. Rather, they sit quietly in the background and show the way without asking for anything in return. The forsythia's bloom against the barren backdrop of the woods shows birth extraordinaire. Time spent in contemplation during days of aloneness fortifies gratification in paying close attention while listening "inward and outward", for there is so much to hear if one just stops long enough.
I continue to collect my "broken fragments" bit by bit, day by day, and have faith in my "dignity", which allows me to trust and move forward with hope...
Have a blessed Easter my dear friends.
This passage, entitled The Inner History of a Day, was written by John O'Donohue (1954-2008), who also wrote the blessing I copied for St. Patrick's Day. O'Donohue, an ordained Catholic priest from County Clare Ireland, held a degree in literature and philosophical theology and is the author of several books. He has a way of combining spirit and nature into thoughts that move me deeply. I will most likely share some of his other works with you.
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ReplyDeletewe were looking at the brilliant blue sky, etched by the budding birch branches up at our place in VT. peter turned to me and said, "there's the resurrection, right there."
ReplyDeleteamen.
Sending you warmth and gratitude for posting a beautiful poem by dear John...who's work i adore! I still wish he hadn't left us so soon!
ReplyDeleteAnd i send you strength and hope that your days become easier and the love for your Erin will always comfort you.......
Best wishes from Queensland, Australia.