At Cabra Castle, Ireland February, 1999
There's that plane that leaves tomorrow -
But I don't really want to leave.
I can still hear the voices
Singing in the pubs
To a music so familiar,
Though I never heard it before,
And the laughter echoing in those streets.
Like audio memories.
I feel the smiles embracing my heart.
And though my spirit has stayed with me
It longs to haunt these castle halls.
From the Cliffs of Moher my eyes
Were cast upon the ocean,
And I saw the rainbows bridge the cliffs to the sea.
My lips touched the Stone at Blarney Castle
And I was transformed back
To what my own people once were
Just a few generations ago.
I roamed the streets of Kerry -
And my soul was renewed,
And freed of all the crumpled dreams
I somehow packed with me.
And I will not take them back home.
This "amnesia" feels so nice -
Like the slate has been wiped clean
And I am free to write something new.
I drank from the deep well of new insight,
And I sipped from a fountain of passion.
This is nothing like I thought.
I could have never I imagined this.
February will never be the same for me.
(My mind will always return here in this month!)
And as my candle burns to dance my shadow
Upon these castle walls -
To manifest in the physical my spirit rejoicing -
I feel a grace in this darkest of nights.
And I am no longer the "madman" -
From across the water.
© poetheart 1999