I found John O’Donohue’s poetry today. It’s useful to have inspiring hopeful words some days. The world isn’t all bad. We can still send each other wishes for meadows of […]
The sure extinction that we travel to
And shall be lost in always. Not to be here,
Not to be anywhere,
And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true.
Performance without rehearsal.
Body without alterations.
Head without premeditation.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I love a sunburnt country,
A land of sweeping plains,
Of ragged mountain ranges,
Of droughts and flooding rains.
We have so little of each other, now. So far
from tribe and fire. Only these brief moments of exchange.
Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more.
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.