That's a lovely poem speaking to an unlovely feeling. It calls to mind "The Man Splitting Wood in the Daybreak" by Galway Kinnell, specifically these lines: "Our spouses weaken at the same rate we do. / We have to hold our children up to lean on them. / Everyone who could help goes or hasn't arrived."
But O'Donohue turns to the hope of being "transfigured," while Kinnell goes for the bleakest jugular at the end. The hope in O'Donohue's choice is welcome.
I agree, Kevin. I can't tell you the number of times I've heard the lines "What is being transfigured here is your mind/And it is difficult and slow to become new." in my head when I most need them. A hopeful reminder that "interims" never last forever.
That's a lovely poem speaking to an unlovely feeling. It calls to mind "The Man Splitting Wood in the Daybreak" by Galway Kinnell, specifically these lines: "Our spouses weaken at the same rate we do. / We have to hold our children up to lean on them. / Everyone who could help goes or hasn't arrived."
But O'Donohue turns to the hope of being "transfigured," while Kinnell goes for the bleakest jugular at the end. The hope in O'Donohue's choice is welcome.
I agree, Kevin. I can't tell you the number of times I've heard the lines "What is being transfigured here is your mind/And it is difficult and slow to become new." in my head when I most need them. A hopeful reminder that "interims" never last forever.