I
am not saying how I will vote in the upcoming Irish Constitutional
Amendment on repealing the Eight Amendment – but my conscience and
my decision will as always be from my own experience, from my heart –
and not from speeches, posters, arguments, clerical pressure, or callers to radio discussion programs.
The
Land of Cudhabeen
In
the land of Cudhabeen
You
could ask for a bedtime story
And
I could tell you one.
What
would it be about?
What
would you ask for?
Would
you ask for life?
Would
you ask that
It
never happened:
That
you came and went
So
soon. So very soon.
I
don't know and I will
Never
have the answer:
It's
your answer that you
Never
got to give.
And
can't now.
At
least not in words,
Or
a language we understand.
Did
you answer in the wind?
That
time, I thought
I
heard you whispering.
Did
you sweep the gentle rain drops
Onto
my cheeks?
To
wash away my sad tears.
Sad
tears not just for you
But
for all who went too soon.
Did
you send the heat to comfort my bones?
My
stooped back creaking and sore.
And
then the warmth.
Was
it your warmth?
Healing
me. But only my body.
My
mind in the land of Cudhabeen,
Will
never stop asking why?
Why
me? Why us? Why them?
There
is no happy ever after
In
this story.
And
yet sometimes you chase that darkness
And
show the new light,
The
new season to me:
That
for now, my child,
Will
keep me hopeful.
And
in time perhaps,
In
another telling
Of
the next story. You
Will
get to hold me
In
your arms.
Roses
Have Thorns
They
spawned this place,
In
the same furnace,
That
forged Magdalens:
From
cold intentions.
We
will handle it
They
told my Parents.
Leave
it - to us…
In
grief: trust was given.
Then,
They took me
In
my swaddling clothes;
And
mangered me here
In
my Gethsemane.
No
graveside company
Mourned
me;
Only
my Creators
Distant,
unseen, tears.
Shattered
hearts:
Still
honour me:
In
painful dreams,
Of
my once-being.
I
will be remembered
Now,
They say again,
With
Rose Gardens
But,
Roses have thorns.
Honour
me, with grass
And
Markers.
Put
me in the light
That
always shines,
In
my parents' hearts.
In
the remembrances
Of
my family.
Not
among the thorns.
We
have carried
That
Crown already.
No comments:
Post a Comment