Homecomings

New York

Since I can remember, the week before my birthday somehow finds me in the still water of reverie. When I was growing up in Iowa, my birthday was invariably greeted with a blizzard. Even without a blizzard, the solitude that weather suggests is a perfect metaphor.

My dear friend, Yvonne, brought me a book of blessings the last time she visited from Dublin by the beloved Irish poet, John O'Donohue. This morning when I picked the book up, it fell open to the blessing below.

To Come Home To Yourself

May all that is unforgiven in you,
Be released.

May your fears yield
Their deepest tranquilities.

May all that is unlived in you,
Blossom into a future,
Graced with love.

John O Donohue

M.C.