Interesting type of curse

The CURSE OF THE MORRIGAN

You who bring suffering to children:

May you look into the sweetest, most open eyes, and howl the loss of your innocence.

You who ridicule the poor, the grieving, the lost, the fallen, the inarticulate, the wounded children in grown-up bodies:

May you look into each face, and see a mirror. May all your cleverness fall into the abyss of your speechless grief, your secret hunger, may you look into that black hole with no name, and find….the most tender touch in the darkest night, the hand that reaches out. May you take that hand. May you walk all your circles home at last, and coming home, know where you are.

You tree-killers, you wasters:

May you breathe the bitter dust, may you thirst, may you walk hungry in the wastelands, the barren places you have made. And when you cannot walk one step further, may you see at your foot a single blade of grass, green, defiantly green. And may you be remade by it’s generosity.

And those who are greedy in a time of famine:

May you be emptied out, may your hearts break not in half, but wide open in a thousand places, and may the waters of the world pour from each crevice, washing you clean.

Those who mistake power for love:

May you know true loneliness. And when you think your loneliness will drive you mad, when you know you cannot bear it one more hour, may a line be cast to you, one shining, light woven strand of the Great Web glistening in the dark. And may you hold on for dear life.

Those passive ones, those ones who force others to shape them, and then complain if it’s not to your liking:

May you find yourself in the hard place with your back against the wall. And may you rage, rage until you find your will. And may you learn to shape yourself.

And you who delight in exploiting others, imagining that you are better than they are:

May you wake up in a strange land as naked as the day you were born and thrice as raw. May you look into the eyes of any other soul, in your radiant need and terrible vulnerability. May you know yourSelf. And may you be blessed by that communion.

And may you love well, thrice and thrice and thrice, and again and again and again:

May you find your face before you were born.

And may you drink from deep, deep waters.

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June 3, 2007

I like it!

June 3, 2007

THat is beautiful. Even if it is a curse. ~

June 11, 2007

I like it, but I am not sure I really understood the last one…

July 2, 2007

RYN: my boy’s been sabre fencing 3 or 4 years now — kind of lost track. he started a bit after his older sister got into target archery (recurve). and they’ve both earned their way into their respective nationals this year. i’m amazed by them, quite often. pimp away!!! he just finished his freshman year in high school, and we get probably at least 1 college recruiting/advertising packet a week. we’re collecting them all. where’s trinity? he has no idea what he wants to do, but seems to be interested in philosophy, sociology, psychology… he’s good at math, but it doesn’t really turn him on. thanks for the note. engarde! -jude

July 2, 2007

RY 2nd N: ah, interesting. Costa Rica is also pretty nice. sometimes it’s not so hard to leave your country when your country has already abandoned you. thanks, I’ll put it on a slip and stick it in his college recruitment folder. -J