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A Bit of Colour

by Anonymous

Grey was the morn, all things were grey, 'Twas winter more than spring; A bleak east wind swept o'er the land, And sobered everything.

Grey was the sky, the fields were grey, The hills, the woods, the trees — Distance and foreground — all the scene Was grey in the grey breeze.

Grey cushions, and a grey skin rug, A dark grey wicker trap, Grey were the ladies' hats and cloaks, And grey my coat and cap.

A narrow, lonely, grey old lane; And lo, on a grey gate, Just by the side of a grey wood, A sooty sweep there sat!

With grimy chin 'twixt grimy hands He sat and whistled shrill; And in his sooty cap he wore A yellow daffodil.

And often when the days are dull, I seem to see him still — The jaunty air, the sooty face — And the yellow daffodil.

Beannacht / Blessing
John O’Donohue

For Josie, my mother

On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.

And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets into you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green
and azure blue,
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.

When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.

May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.

And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.