Echoes


I sing to the rocks on the road to Roundstone
and they sing of home to me.

I whisper my secrets to blooming heather
and she whispers back to me.

I hum a tune to silver stream that rushes past
and she hums my melody.

I wipe my eyes in the mountain wind
and she cries her heart for me.

I see the sea wave on every tide
and she comes and comes for me.

A sense of presence                     (thanks to @barbiestar)

She looked deep
deep into the mirror
to where her mother lived.

Inside her fading hair
from where that ghost slept
reflections stirred

as if she heard an echo
laugh into eyes
that list their way

long ago before her self
wobbled step after step
away from a haunting house.

She looked deeper now
past the past
into the conundrum of being.

It would soon be time
for her to teach
the metaphysics of daily repentance.

Song for Mary Oliver on her 80th birthday in Florida 

As we say in Ireland,

“You’re one of us Mary,

you’re a chip off the old block.”

I came across you recently

when I was looking for something

– like a better life –

(not even sure what it was).

Not even sure what it felt like

the day I opened the door to you

and you came into the kitchen.

Almost certainly, it was raining.

You see, I’d never have written

“You don’t have to like oysters”

if it wasn’t for the sound of your voice

– the way you didn’t just sit in the chair

opposite me, but got out of the chair

and sat on my lap.

Every now and again, daemon-like,

you’d change form (not substance).

You’d hop on my shoulder.

A whelk, a blue iris, a river, a goose

(Oh no, not a river, another creature.)

Not only was this a new experience for me,

it was an old experience, returned

to poke the cinders

to see if any of them still glowed.

Poem for Aylan Kurdi Shenu

  

We are humans

I am your soul Aylan

your true humanity

I did not die with you

sinking in Bodrum‘s sea.

Who do you think washed you ashore?

Who painted your t-shirt red?

To Kos the adults took you

‘We promise home’ they said.

Who do you think will lift you now?

Who’ll cuddle you warm and true?

Who’ll bring your people safe from war?

Who’ll bury your shorts so blue?

I am your soul Aylan, your true humanity,

I did not die with you.