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"For The Artist At The Start Of The Day", by John O'Donohue

Updated: Mar 24

I have been reading part of a poem by John O'Donohue, in my yoga classes:


May this be a morning of innocent beginning,

When the gift within you slips clear

Of 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,



(Read full poem below the image)


Cowell Ranch-Purisima Trail. California, March 2024

Here is the full poem:



For The Artist At The Start Of The Day

by John O'Donohue



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,

When the gift within you slips clear

Of 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 its secret loss.




Read more poems by John O'Donohue:




Cowell Ranch-Purisima Trail. California, March 2024

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