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You walk down a road,
the one you know well,
taking you where you’ve
always gone, singing
the song you’ve worked
to make yours, adding
a minor note here, a
fiddle there, maybe the drama
of a bodhrán, the flutter
of a flute…it’s been pared
down over the years. The
orchestra left long ago. ‘Twasn’t you,
your great aunt would say, and perhaps
she’d be right. She always said she was,
and you never questioned. Your song is spare
but honest; anyone would hear
it and know it was yours, who you say
you are, been told you are; you’re proud
in a modest way, being that melody. It’s
enough. And then, comes a stranger, down
your very road, twinkling and shining
her song so purely, filled with such
joy, it lifts you high and drops you,
blinded and knowing
for the first time, the power
of a song that is the singer’s
and then yours, too; it adds
to you without subtracting, it enlarges
you, lifts you up and drops you
to your knees, grateful, fed, instructed,
not minding at all; in fact, ecstatic, knowing
your song doesn’t need to make you
feel proud or modest or anything
but spent and offered, joy spilling
over. You’ll be calling back
the orchestra for rehearsals.
Time for a new song to sing
down new roads. Breathe.
Begin, your light and music
shining from every pore.



© Copyright of all visual and written materials on The Daily Round belongs solely to Catherine M. O’Meara, 2011-Present. Unauthorized use is strictly prohibited, without the author’s written approval. No one is authorized to use Catherine O’Meara’s copyrighted material for material gain without the author’s engagement and written permission. All other visual, written, and linked materials are credited to their authors. Thank you, and gentle peace.

9 thoughts on “Awakening

  1. I would like to request permission to use a poem of yours, “In the time of Pandemic” for a special project, not for profit or media publication. How might I contact you to convey more details and receive permission. Thank you for your consideration. It is a lovely poem.


  2. I am not being hyperbolic when I say this poem speaks to me, at the age of 60 (how did that happen?), with something I have been feeling this past year but haven’t been able to put into words. I cried, with relief, reading it. Someone else sees that you can be so far down the path that seeing something new, that “stranger” comes along, yet feels so right, And even though you’ve been singing your song so long and people do recognize it as yours, maybe there is something more, something that is even deeper and closer to the true soul of who you are. And you have to let go. Thank you Kitty.


    1. How beautiful, Morna; thank you so much for sharing. I agree that a thoughtful life pares us away, or simmers us to a rich reduction of our essence…And, although I also wonder how, when, and where it passed so quickly, I do kind of like waking up more and more to who I am, and if it’s not who I was yesterday, or for years, well, time for a new song. Some letting go is easier than others. 🙂 Blessings on your journey, Morna! Be well and safe, and gentle peace to you. Thank you so very much for your kindness in writing, and know that your peace–and joy– in letting go and composing new song(s) are held in my heart, too.


    1. Thank you, dear one. I agree: a very moving comment.
      And as for snow: I’m very happy it came and will love it as long as it lasts. 🙂
      Peace to you new week and thank you, as always for stopping and sharing: You are very precious to me. xoxoxo


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