Thursday, June 26, 2014

" Things Worth Praising "

RainSoft rain.  Hard pelting rainSleet and snow.
Clouds: white, grey, darkA spring breeze.
The predictability of stars and moon and sun.

Green small hills.  Craggy slopes. Granite cliffs.
Topsoil deep and richThe melody of rivers.
The power of tides.  The cycle of change.

Industry of bee and wormSweet fruit that follows.
Microbes that make cheese.  Ones that cure us.
Profound cooperation that begets lichen.

Birdsong carried on wind.  The shadow of a horse
against a limestone wallA dog's warmth.

A friend's hand, reaching out for help or tea.
A sigh, a song, an honest smile, a body dancing.
Everything that connects and is connected

~ Patricia Monaghan 

26 June, 2014  

Friday, June 20, 2014

" Latiarian's Heart "

Three holy women came westward
from France to that place on the border

of Kerry and Cork where the great paps
rise, Danu's giant mist-clad breasts:

Lasair, the eldest, stopped at Killasseragh
and made a hermit's cell her home;

and the middle sister, the yellow haired one,
went along the Blackwater to Dromtarriff

and stopped her journey there; and
the youngest, Latiarian, went to coal-rich

Cullen, where a smith gave her embers
every day to heat her hut.  She carried

the embers back in her apron and spent
her days in prayer and contemplation.

Then one day the smith complimented
her shapely feet and Latiarian's apron

burst into flame and she uttered a curse
that no smith would ever thrive in Cullen

and she disappeared, leaving behind
only a granite stone beside the road.

Her curse still holds.  No blacksmith lives
in Cullen now to give away embers

and compliment the women.  What's
 left of Latiarian?  A heart-shaped stone.

~Patricia Monaghan

~ Beannaichte'
20 June, 2014 

Thursday, June 12, 2014



~ Samuel Beckett

12 June, 2014