I’m not sure what it is about John O’Donohue’s writing (and his voice…oh, his voice) that I ache for as a new year approaches, but it’s becoming tradition. One I’m happy to embrace.

He completely oozes this beauty that…has the feel, even the taste, of the land. The words are these beautiful tendrils that reach something in me yet untouched by cynicism and fear…a place of hope. Maybe that’s why I feel such a need for him as a new year begins.

Here are some bits and pieces of beauty worth every tear. If you’re around later tonight, when midnight strikes in West Michigan, watch for another post — I’ll be sharing his blessing “for a new beginning.”

 

Beannacht

On the day when
The weight deadens
On your shoulders
And you stumble,
May he clay dance
To balance you.

And When your eyes
Freeze behind
The gray window
And the ghost of loss
Gets into you,
May a flock of colors,
Indigo, red, green
And azure blue,
Come to awaken in you
A meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
In the curragh 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,
And invisible cloak
To mind your life.

 

If you’d like to hear O’Donohue read this poem, here you go. You are welcome.

If you’d like some visual beauty to accompany the audio, here you go. You owe me one.

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