I fill my poems
With the rhythm of the river
The music of the Eternal Giver
I can stand long and long
Watching a thrush coax a blackbird
Into song.
STORYTELLER
I fill my poems
With the rhythm of the river
The music of the Eternal Giver
I can stand long and long
Watching a thrush coax a blackbird
Into song.
On the evening of the 9th August 2006 My wife Kate and I took a walk along the beach at Seafield near Quilty in County Clare. We were visiting our relations. Kate walked on quickly leaving me to saunter. It was a clear evening and the sun was going down over Mutton Island. The first line of the poem came into my mind. I wrote it down and decided to follow it.
The lines carried on till I got to the fourth and I stopped and I could clearly see my mother in my mind. After this the poem took on a different flow and sentence after sentence came down. The poem took ten minutes to write. When I got to the sun going down, I looked behind me and the moon in all its fullness came up and I saw this as the natural ending.
Afterwards I worked on the lines and began to strengthen them but only succeeded in making a mess. I went back to the original and here it is:
She lived among the wild flowers
She lived among the wild flowers
Where cattle graze
And corncrake rasped the stillness
And by the sea she walked
Where the waves made furrows on her mind
She danced at the crossroads
To the sound of flute and fiddle
And her voice chanted the beauty of her place
Her spirit was free
And like the flocks of goldfinches
Moved with the melody
Her passion was for desolate places
Where alone she was never alone
Then one day he came
And she went with him
To an alien place
Into fields of strangers
And there she lived
And there she died
But her soul was always in that hallowed place
Where cuckoo romanced the bog
Calling his name over and over
Where the waves made music on the rocks
And the sun went down over Mutton Island
And the moon came up in full
To serenade the night
An otter floated up the canal.
Its nose parting the water.
Rolled itself into a playful mood
Relaxed into a soft backstroke
Within a second,
Pandemonium,
Waterhens came from everywhere,
Ducks gathered around him,
Shouting and flapping their wings,
He quickly surveyed the scene.
And made a quick turn
Leaving the water in a hurried silence.
Blackbird singing in Basin Street.
Evening kisses the day
Lamp outside is the setting sun
Light steals the night away
All around our little house
That means so much to me
Whispers of a misty evening
Romancing the gentle tree
Let us celebrate each moment.
As stars multiply in the sky
And evening melts into timelessness
There is no such word as why
Now I murmur sweet nothingness.
As snowdrops lay in flower
For all I have, I give to you
From now until my final hour.
I watched the moon
Walking down the avenue
Through an acre of birds
Asleep and dreaming
I empty my mind of figures
And fill it with prayers
I walk the avenue
Guarded by the chestnut
with little Christmas trees
Walk over golden leaves
That would outdo Solomon
loop
Nothing but crows
Blackening the light
Squawking terror into the still
Multitudes on the rampage
Dark is everywhere
Nothing is beautiful
But I found a flower in the graveyard
And I saw ducks dance on the water.
And there they are
In mourning
Silent
Just floating on the canal
Following the father
At the head of the family
She is gone
Taken out
Murdered
Nobody will say
Somebody knows
The canal has lost its beauty
And for me
A great friend.
There is no moment like this
When my spirit roams
Through falling leaves
Filling me with redemption
The word is passed on
I walk in quiet pastures
By the canal
Where yester days leaves
Have gently turned yellow
A swaying branch deserted
By a fleeing hawk
And I am left in silence