Blessing for the artist at the start of the day

May morning be astir with the harvest of night, your mind quickening to the Eros of a new question, your eyes seduced by some unintended glimpse that cut right through the surface to a source.

May this be a morning of innocent beginning, where the gift within you slips clear off the sticky web of the personal with its hurt and its hauntings and fixed fortress corners. A morning when you become a pure vessel for what wants to ascend from silence.

May your imagination know the grace of perfect danger to reach beyond imitation and the wheel of repetition, deep into the call of all the unfinished and unsolved until the veil of the unknown yields and something original begins to stir toward your senses and grow stronger in your heart in order to come to birth in a clean line of form that claims from time a rhythm not yet heard that calls space to a different shape.

May it be its own force field and dwell uniquely between the heart and the light to surprise the hungry eye by how deftly it fits about it secret loss.

– John O’Donohue


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