By John O'Donohue(1954 - 2008)
No one knew the name of this day;Born quietly from deepest night,It hid its face in light,Demanded nothing for itself,Opened out to offer each of usA field of brightness that traveled ahead,Providing in time, ground to hold our footstepsAnd the light of thought to show the way.The mind of the day draws no attention;It dwells within the silence with eleganceTo create a space for all our words,Drawing us to listen inward and outward.We seldom notice how each day is a holy placeWhere the eucharist of the ordinary happens,Transforming our broken fragmentsInto an eternal continuity that keeps us.Somewhere in us a dignity presidesThat is more gracious than the smallnessThat fuels us with fear and force,A dignity that trusts the form a day takes.So at the end of this day, we give thanksFor
being betrothed to the unknownAnd for the secret workThrough which the mind of the dayAnd wisdom of the soul become one.
-- from To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings, by John O'Donohue
Photo: Pamughaton.net
Bulusan, Sorsogon, Philippines
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