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.