- Poetry -
Mountains may be climbed,
an end point clearly shown.
I have seen the mountain top,
the vast, scattered plains below.
Short, sharp breaths,
and the taste of blood in my throat.
I have struggled upwards,
and have overcome,
but never have I been so undone
as when I find my feet in the sea
and gulls hollering after me.
Mountains, the great struggle of man,
but our soul, our soul, is the sea.
The ocean is proof enough
that being in love requires no person.
Mist, tears mingle in my eyes,
staring at the grey mirror, unbound, before me.
I cannot know how far it goes,
or the darkness of its depths,
but when I die give me over
to the Atlantic,
-In Dingle, Co. Kerry
30 May 2016