My name is Podrig Otuma and years ago I had a new friend, David Clare,

and we were having a cup of coffee in Dublin and we talked about poetry as we often do.

And he said to me, had I ever read Book of Mercy by Leonard Cohen and I hadn't.

I was a fan of Leonard Cohen but I hadn't read any of his poetry.

And he produced a copy of it from his bag and gave it to me. And it was one of my favorite books.

And then another friend, a couple of years later, Peter Wilson, I'll call him out, borrowed the book, and then kind of apologetically said to me, I'm keeping that book because I need it.

I loved his audacity. And I have

since purchased many copies of that book. And I can't hang on to any of them. I keep on giving

them away. I feel like it's a book that wants to go places. I love it. It has changed me and

changed the way I think. And it has risen to the very top of everything that I love about Leonard Cohen.

Number eight from Leonard Cohen's Book of Mercy. In the eyes of men, he falls, and in his own eyes too.

He falls from his high place.

He trips on his achievement.

He falls to you.

He falls to know you.

It is sad, they say.

See his disgrace, say the ones at his heel.

But he falls radiantly toward the light to which he falls.

They cannot see who lifts him as he falls, or how his falling changes, and he himself

bewildered till his heart cries out to bless the one who holds him in his falling. And in his fall, he hears his heart cry out.

His heart explains why he is falling, why he had to fall, and he gives over it to the fall.

Blessed are you, clasp of falling.

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