Franz Wright and John O'Donohue

a new arrival, 1 from a litter of 10

Just listened to a very compelling podcast from Speaking of Faith. Irish poet and philosopher, John O'Donohue speaking on beauty and friendship. While talking of beauty, and specifically poetry, he says, "That's the mystery of poetry. That poetry tries to draw alongside the mystery as its emerging and to somehow bring it into presence." He later says, " It's strange to be here (to be alive), the mystery never leaves you." 

Give it a listen. I think you'll like it. 

From a collection of Franz Wright's poems, God's Silence. 

5. God Here

The uninterruptible

voice, the

silence I now call

my only 

friend

Who says

right about now you might want to stop playing

mad chemist with your brain: return to Me

and I will return

The Fire

Listen, I've light

in my eyes

and on my skin

the warmth of a star, so strange

is this

that I

can barely comprehend it:

I think

I'll lift my face to it, and then

I lift my face,

and don't even know how

this is done. And

everything alive

(and everything's

alive)

is turning

into something else

as at the heart

of some annihilating 

or is it creating

fire

that's burning, unseeably, always

burning at such speeds

as eyes cannot

detect, just try

to observe your own face

growing old

in the mirror, or

is it beginning 

to be born?