Thursday, February 07, 2008

A Timely Poem Written after an Untimely Death


Even the downpour, unseasonable,
The cranks on the radio, unreasonable,
Cannot bring us down to those dark places
Where no light is and death reigns.
Like Lear we will rail against
The fury of the storms that hit,

And when our fury’s spent
We will rest a while
With the droplets of rain lulling us
To a sleep full of dreams
Where our lost friends live
Whom we embrace – so real -
Like the touch of your warm silken body -

And the rain keeps falling but who cares,
It waters the dry wastelands of the soul
And brings daisies dancing on the lawn
And a feast of worms for the starlings
That nest above us in the eaves.
They chirp on and on unmindful…

Of knives that cut and kill,
Of the deafening sounds of ambulances,
Of the confusion that reigns
On the dark streets where lost souls live
Behind the doors of death.

In the graveyard there’s a small cross
That marks the spot
Where our young friend lies
Smothered in the flowers of our grief’s love,

And still the rain pours down,
Lashing the windowpane above our bed,
On and on like a sacred mantra
Wishing life not death,
Washing us clean,
Cleansing us of our sins.

Above I have uploaded a beautiful picture of some stained glass I took at St Cronin's Church, Roscrea where I was baptized. I took this picture last October

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