Beannacht
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 gray 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.
from Anam Cara by John O'Donohue
Moonrise by Stanisław Masłowski, 1884
6 comments:
Beautiful poem to read early this morning, but you know, I was also drawn back to the ukulele playing little boy. So sweet!
This is perfect. It is what I keep trying to say, over and over, but I am clumsy and this is not.
Just oh. So beautiful. I'm going to save this on my computer.
I am truly not a big poetry reader. (Not much of a reader at all these days.) But I just love this one. And I couldn't believe I found such a perfect picture to go with it.
Oh, I forgot to mention this: A Currach or Curach is a type of Irish boat with a wooden frame, over which animal skins or hides were once stretched - nowadays canvas is more usual. (From Wikipedia)
And Beannacht means Blessing in Gaelic.
What's this nonsense?
You going soft on me?
I don't know how I missed this too.
It's wonderful, the painting too.
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