Glendalough

The Wicklow hills are whispering, ‘the storm has passed and gone’. Now softly there’s a murmuring; an echoed vale of song.

Deep therein, there lies a void between that glacial cut; where God’s hand split the land in two, like a knife torn along my gut.

But we were born before the stars. Before the rock, the sand and stone. Before the valley gushed with sound; before the butterfly fled her home.

And home - a swirling ebb, a deepening flow of rock pools ever steep. Not where you are but who you’re with. A feeling, not a place to keep.

Like stars die before they fade we too must leave before others can see that our light is gone. So when old chapters turn to new; we know we must march on...

But my spirit will always be in Glendalough, where I heard God’s voice speak to me.

As We Walked Late By The Grand Canal

Drunk one night I remember well
As we walked late by the Grand Canal
You with me and me with you
Footfall loose on leafy dew
The still of night, the darkness bright
Your eyes soft in the cold moonlight
You looked at me in a playful way
And I laughed aloud when i heard you say,
'When will you marry me my love’?
As lightning struck down from above
I stumbled there upon the bank
Where leafy love had swam and sank

But buried in my heart I knew,
As snowdrops stood above the dew
That we were one and one was two
As you were me and I was you
And dancing still beneath the bright
The winter's wind with all its might
Blew our plans up into the air like
Some old song or forgotten prayer
The future; unwritten in it's rhyme
As the evening bells from churches chimed

I moved in closer beneath your breath
And I knew my heart was yours 'til death
With your cold cheek glowing and eyes so knowing
We smiled and we knew and we kept on going...

The Ice Storm

We walked the pavements together at night in the time of Covid. Down along Elgin Road shuffling past St. Bartholomew’s as the bells chimed, mourning the loss of a busy world.

Time stood frozen and so was I, that winter when the ice storm set in. The icicles; like daggers stabbed against my chest as we sat on the bench at the end of Wellington Road.

I recall you had two beautiful coats that winter. I was bare-chested. I was bare-chested and I was beaten.

One night when the pain was too much and winter had left me for dead, I summoned the courage to ask if I could borrow one of your coats.

Saying ‘no’ would have been kinder than staying silent. A prick from a thorn of the most admired rose is always the cruelest.

I didn’t know your heart was colder than mine.

Howth Head (Morning in May)

I do not wait alone
though there is no one here.
'Tis solitude’s sweet comfort
brings music to the ear.

The distant song of birds
upon the lightness of the wind.
The branches at my feet
urge me to look within.

The distant song of birds
upon the lightness of the wind.
The branches at my feet
urge me to look within.

And reflect upon an old time
of sweeter melodies when
heaven's gate was wiser than
the way between the trees.

'Oh, the world is too much with us',
as Wordsworth once had said.
And I hear his gentle whisper
as I walk along Howth Head.

As the crashing waves below me
fright the drone from Dublin City.
And an aeroplane above me
reveals a greenery - so pretty.

I wander farther down
to a cave beside the sea
and I listen to the sound
that tells me I am free.

There I stop and I listen, to
the music from the trees for
there is no greater symphony
than nature's melodies.

Crying at His Feet

I came to the Father and cried at his feet.
He spoke to me as I was a child; 'wash your face my son,
there is no shame in trying.
In failing you are born, a new day will dawn and
the sun will fill your days forevermore.
Do not be cross at others but be patient and kind
and as you are with others so life will be with you.
Start anew with love and greet each new day with gratitude.
There are many roads that lead to heaven.'