These benedictions rise from certainty
born of bewilderment,
the confidence that life prevails
above its final falling—
that life endures not only death
but even life, its hunger and its mourning—
and arises from the giving of one’s life.
This blessing falls from lips
who’ve drunk of passion
and survived, and arises
from a heart that trusts the dark.
All wombs are dark and fragile things,
and breathing—falling, rising—sings
of life unknown by stones
and other unmoved things.
For stones in all their strength
can only sit or roll or fall;
but, daring to be tender,
life alone can rise and grow.
Blessing falls, like snow and rain,
like sunlight’s bright surprises;
but life itself starts dark and low;
and always life arises.
__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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