For the past two weeks I had left a stack of books in the Religious Studies office on a shelf. With so many books to read, I let a few wait for me there. Today I retrieved them, and as if it were Christmas, was surprised by all the lovely titles I rediscovered. No wonder I requested them from other libraries!
One of the books is a very large, green volume with a golden emblem pressed into the front cover. It's titled Ireland in Poetry. Page after page has old and new poems and color photographs or images of paintings. And I don't know what it is about Irish poetry, but it makes me feel a deep sense of mourning, fear, and inspiration, almost anticipation (of what? I do not know). I don't even know that much about Ireland's history or conflicts, it's people or places. The most intimate look at Ireland I have (besides my Lit. professor Kathy) comes from Eavan Boland's Memoir-ish Object Lessons.
What is it about Irish poetry?
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Just thought you might be interested in this poem - and I'm Irish!
Where are you now?
Where are you now, my dear, in all your thoughts of this and that?
What can tomorrow bring if today is not a day full lived?
Was yesterday so cruel, that it did not give you life to live today?
Look into what you have “today” and who knows what treasure you might find?
Bound in chains of sadness, future imaginings thrash about,
Trapped, our present is suffocating with lack of attention.
Past flippancies grow to regrets; great big “what-ifs” drown us,
Strangling our acceptance of who we really are; right now!
Unfurl those shoulders and shake the sadness off, look deeply into God’s eyes
And feel the wonders of being alive, surrounded by life’s gifts and forms.
With eyes that see and ears that hear, let loose the mind that thinks,
All things a puzzle, dementia from attempted understanding of all that’s there.
No certainty can ever come from understanding since no understanding is certain.
Them and us and him and her are never you; and never can be, for you are you!
Where you are now is all you ever need to know; from acceptance comes peace,
And from peace comes joy, and from joy comes love and it all starts now.
The tall oak tree, firmly rooted, sucks deeply on the nutrients of now,
She cares not for last century’s drought or next month’s storm.
Softly she sways in the wind, shaking her leaves like so many castanets,
Smiling the universal smile of nature’s beauty, should we take care to notice.
From deep within as you relax, up bubbles your acceptance of all that is.
The clarity and poignancy of now is all there ever needs to be.
By, with and through the sadness can hope shine strong if we shine our light
Deeply into whom we really are; to find that spark of life that lives within us all.
The dying embers can not by hope alone be revived, they need some fuel.
The wind of action will fan their life, tongues of fire licking your acceptance.
Keep strong and feed that inner self with life’s true essence of all that is
And only from what is, can what will be arise when then becomes now.
Tossed amongst a sea of thoughts, far from sanity we pick up the oars,
And steadfastly through acceptance, row forward our way, stroke by stroke.
No shoreline in sight, it takes an effort to strike forward, yet that we must!
For else, with drifting we perish, sinking beneath the maelstrom of inaction.
Rise up now and look upon your life with acceptance of all, that is as it is,
With deliberate action take up that step, gently forward one at a time.
From each new place your step shall bring you, then and only then look anew.
For this is your now, since it’s the only now you can have right now!
Since today is yesterday’s tomorrow,
Try to live today without those timefull impostors.
So where are you now my dear?
It’s your answer, your life as only you can live it!
Peter 17/8/2008
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