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
Many pagans don't like to celebrate St. Patrick's Day because St. Pat christianized pagan Ireland and quite frankly, we still resent it. So instead of lionizing the auld saint today, I'm featuring this poem by the brilliant and sensitive contemporary Irish mystic, poet and Catholic priest, John O'Donohue, author of Anam Cara.
And here's an extra treat -- a video of John O'Donohue himself reciting this poem shortly before his untimely death in 2008. He had the most beautiful Irish brogue and musical lilt to his voice. I could listen to him forever.
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