Saoirse

I saw her in the slow fade of Northern light,

A spritely glimpse was all before she flew.

I knew not if she would return,

But second sight was waste; I now knew the one.

Impassioned desperation. I searched for a name,

I felt warm wind on ear whisper, Saoirse.

Days like years pass before I next saw Saoirse,

standing near the Black Pool’s foggy light.

My soul leapt at the mere thought of her name.

Across the Quay her words swiftly flew:

“We can’t yet be as one,

But I prophesy my return”

Like the patient acolyte awaiting His return

I sat in my stone-tomb Gaol, singing for Saoirse.

They said that I was a crazy one,

Like the flower fearing the light.

But in one thought my fears solemnly flew

This feeling! If I could only learn its name.

On the Hill where Kings got their name

I thought a felt her in my heart return

When I found myself alone, the feeling swiftly flew.

The country stones all around me knew her; Saoirse

Like the green valley knows the sunlight

But I knew, for me, she was the only one.

When I was defeated and content to be just one

I heard the Little Rose call my name.

She pulled my body into the light,

Giving the grace I thought never would return.

Before all, arm in arm, I walked with Saoirse,

And into my home, she finally flew.

From Hurdled Ford to Salthill Prom our love flew,

Blissful release in a body now one.

Once hushed in darkness, now found in Saoirse

A peace in both feeling and name.

But what’s alive and true at the moon’s return

Never is in the harshness of Northern morning light

“Surely she’ll return,” I cried, the final time she flew,

But, I knew she was one brief and fleeting, a slim casted light.

I now knew the feeling wanted. It’s name, simply, Saoirse.

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