“You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.
Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.
Imitate the habit of twilight,
Taking time to open the well of color
That fostered the brightness of day.
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.”
― John O’Donohue
Life as Improv 
Thank you for this timely post. I enjoy the feel of the cool, the look of the color and the relaxed notions this poem offers. Much needed today. 🙂
It is so nice to allow ourselves to relax into such stillness and silence – even in the midst of motion! Right there with you!
Curious. I’m not a big poem person, at least not these days. Don’t feel patient enough to let them soak in. And I don’t think I really let myself soak in this one, yet I felt peace and silence spread through me as I passed over each line. Thanks for the gift!
Kelly,
You have touched on a funny paradox I inhabit. I have laughed to myself before how much I love to write poetry, yet I often resist the commitment that it takes to read a poem written by someone else. (how indulgent is that?:) I am often amazed that others are able to enter in the work it takes to really take in words in this form – it is almost like crawling inside the interior of another – I’m guarded and cautious about doing that! 🙂 John O’Donohue is one that always pays back exponentially by my willingness to take in each line – I also often feel this way with Mary Oliver. Now that I teach poetry, I have learned many more. So very nice to share in this moment with you here inside these words.
Ah, I love your reply! As I was typing my comment, I thought, hmmm, how’s marga going to feel about my saying I don’t care for poetry that much when she writes poetry here??? Glad I wrote it, because your response revealed another connection for us – I like to write poetry too, although I rarely do it now. I’m definitely that way with classical singing. I love singing classical music and participating in classical choirs (I was a music major and voice was my primary instrument), but listening to classical singers generally makes me want to run away or, if escape isn’t possible, take a nap.
And your comment about crawling inside another, and being guarded, turned on a lightbulb. Even as I felt peace wash over me with every line of John’s poem, and I therefore decided to read it again and try to really read it, I felt major resistance. I didn’t get that, so I tried a third time, then gave up. Your comment shows me that’s what was going on. Fascinating!
What a way to return myself to life. I feel myself morphing into the slow rain, leaving the fast frantic pace of nonsense living behind me. I am open and ready now world. So nice to be welcomed back by M’s loving arms. Its good to be back.
Hey there, raindrop. Sometimes you and I have to find the stillness in the daily motion, don’t we?! How wonderful to have you back where you have always been. Do you know the tale of the man who thought his house was crowded, and was advised to invite the chickens, the cows and the relatives in? Then when the extra things were ushered back out of the house, he thought he now lived in a castle…are you feeling a bit this way? Good to be home, with just the family? Stop by for some tea when you get a moment 🙂