I Am Said I (Huruma)

  I feel like a Yank Returning to this rugged Remoteness Her face in repose Utterly unfamiliar In death  It is her voice That remains The bright kindliness With which she used To speak my name Summoning summer days Of another time Young men Fishing Fast driving Effortless friendship I remember David diving Into the bottle-green Calm of the deep To retrieve the oar That had slipped Drifting away Like a prophecy Coming back To the shallow shore And the dying Out of our friendship I still don’t know How we became Such strangers I think of him now Pray for him s leeping  Slipping away Far away from here The innocent bed We shared back then In the way that young friends did As close in soul As in body The tender warmth Of it The beauty And though it is lost It is a history That abides within my soul Treasured

Across the field to dawn at sea a corner in the midday sun beneath the sky at night alone within his heart the warrior waits for death the watchman waits for dawn to this have I been called to wait on God a moment forever in expectancy of surprise.

A hoarse groan  Echoes in the cave That you have become Death has been mining Digging out the rich Mineral of your life Haunting your emptiness Breaking our closeness Apart Not knowing what Your eyes are trying To say Their pleading And the fear That you want me To leave before it’s time We no longer know How to be With each other A tautness has entered To replace the ease Learned of lifelong Intimacy Parting is approaching And we are not able For it

I feel September In my bones The cool air of Autumn On my skin The colour of Summer On my face And peace within The youth grown suddenly tall Returning in the joy of festival freedom A church bell tolls The passing of the Hours The turning of the days And night lengthening It will soon be time To go inside With quiet reflection New lessons learned And all things gathered To the fire and to the soul The warmth that keeps us Through dark seasons New beginnings and fresh hope

He left home A stranger The heat of winter's Fever burning On the wrong Side of everything While she claimed The honour  Of a  superior choice He wasn't worth A word of farewell Did silence tell That they might never Meet again? (January 2020)

Bare tree Naked rosebush Spiking the dawn Dripping drops of dew The tears I cannot shed My heart a mayhem of crows Swooping on a single seagull Outside in the Green Where we played by day And partied by night Until grief disfigured our joy Love fatally fractured The man has died He who became my enemy We made our peace A defrosting Long before it was too late Yet still a broken legacy Remains The wounds of hate The scars of love Debris of human frailty We must stand still And wait for God To win the victory For us all (January 2020)

Vera icon True image of Christ Imprinted on the towel Of her kindness Love did not allow Her to be cautious Self-conscious It thrust her Into the path This bloodied battered Body Christ in degradation Etching his sacred Countenance Upon the soul of one Who attends to those Most in need of mercy

Bare stalk of tree thrust Claw into gut of sky And mine Winter-sharp vision I can see and feel Everything Labour pains Dying throes Pangs of birth In tandem Subconscious memory Playing out Beginnings and endings Fresh flesh failing Body bent in pain And adoration The spirit is willing Pre deliverance restlessness Upon us Mother and child All over again Curled up in bed Whoever lives Whoever dies I do not know how I can survive Without her

Water is a womb In my dreams It nurtures Some unknown subconscious Still to be born Water is a woman In my waking A still inspiring tranquil Sea at the dawn And dusk of day Now And then A tempest inflicting The frailty of man upon Perishing rocks A river rushing From mountain top To ocean depth Tears of compassion And delight Uninhibited flow Of love and every Emotion Water is a calm swell Rising imperceptibly Breaching boundaries Seeping in where it does Not belong You open your eyes On a bed floating in flood The damage is not Beyond repair But it will take forever And she flicks her eyelids Glancing sideways She sighs Get over it! Maybe she really wanted Me to drown To save me again In that unfathomable Logic of her love

I have fallen in a heap Of stones on the beach At the quieting of the evening Waters gathered up As milk in a basin  In the crook of a mother's arm A place to uncover wounds Wounds heavily bandaged Wounds un-nameable Wounds that I protect From touch for fear Of further pain too much For me to bear Uncover these wounds For I have run out of options Every treatment tried I am hemorrhaging And have not even strength To touch the hem of Christ But let The Touch come upon The waiting of the open sore That I have become I can do no more than wait now (Killiney Beach August 29, 2013)

Relationship begins In Eternity Perfect pronouncement Of Name Unutterable Word You have made me For Yourself You are my first And present Belonging I have been made Unmarriageable By You And still I yearned For my child And You have heard My hankering And claimed me Still more As Your own

HAPPY 40TH BIRTHDAY TO MY FIRST BORN NEPHEW ROBBIE CLICK HERE TO VIEW MEMORIES

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I am the woman Discovered undercover Caught in the act Exhumed from hiding Beneath skin and flesh The secret desirings Of heart and mind I am the boy Who took refuge there A place of escape And safe solace My habitual habitation I am every one Who exists on the outside The other side of right And there is nothing That will not be revealed In the end And this is my end The law abiding strong Throng my orthodox accuser With only one solution The right of righteousness I am petrified Panic stricken stood bowed Barely able to breathe What will the first Struck stone feel like? What part of me Will bleed and break Before I am all blood broken Bone splintered? I gasp for air For life But God is merciful He who alone is Good Stands upright Sees all that I am - ALL - Absorbs me into Himself He bends down So that my bending Now has no shame in it And He writes my Pardon In the sand. Great is His Name Amen

It’s providential that we are saying farewell to each other on the feast of the Ascension, the day when Jesus and His disciples said goodbye. Somehow, I feel that our parting is graced by the Ascension, is lifted up with Jesus and then it becomes a sacred and holy experience, an experience in which separation and union become one and the same thing because we are all held together as one in Jesus, especially every time we come to Holy Communion at Mass. In all my years of leaving different places I have never felt as emotional as I do on leaving Shankill. I have always said that you have taught me to be a real priest but I completely underestimated the depth and strength of the bond that exists between us and I have been really touched by your response to the news of my leaving that was announced a couple of weeks ago. We are truly one body, one spirit in Christ. The preparation for my life here came in the form of the Camino to Santiago, a journey that emptied me of every...

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" And I said, "Here am I. Send me!" (Isaiah 6:8) The echo Of a seagull's cry On a winter's dawn Crystal clear Carrying a call From another coast It comes to me At the altar Sacrifice Separation From all who hold me Dear To leave familiar loves I am reluctant Resisting Surrender But still I will go If You lead And need me To take Your People To heart In a different land Gratefully and In Love As Eucharist In Your hands (Shankill, a November Sunday 2016)

“…they pressed him to stay with them. ‘It is nearly evening’ they said, ‘and the day is almost over.’ So, he went in to stay with them. Now while he was with them at table, he took the bread and said the blessing; then he broke it and handed it to them. And their eyes were opened and they recognized him; but he had vanished from their sight. Then they said to each other, ‘Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us on the road and explained the scriptures to us?’ ” This is one of the loveliest and most tender moments in the Bible, a moment that inspired this prayer that we say in the Divine Office: ‘Stay with us, Lord Jesus, as evening falls; Be our companion on our way. In your mercy inflame our hearts and raise our hope, So that, in union with our brothers and sisters We may recognize you in the Scriptures And in the breaking of Bread Who live and reign with the Father and the Holy Spirit, God for ever and ever.’ It is the desire of us all that the Lord...

The Resurrection of Jesus is a fact in itself, but for the disciples the experiences of the Resurrection are different and varied. Each of them experienced it in his or her own way and at their own pace. And the running of Peter and John to the empty tomb is very symbolic of that. John ran faster than Peter and got there ahead of him but each of them came to the experience of Jesus in their own time and at their own pace. Resurrection can be a very difficult reality to comprehend or to make a connection with. I find myself when I’m going through Holy Week that I have a very strong connection with Holy Thursday, Good Friday and the early part of Holy Saturday – these touch something very deep inside the heart. Resurrection is a very different thing because we haven’t yet experienced it ourselves. But what I do believe is important is the intensity of desire that is in our hearts to have the experience of Jesus risen from the dead and that we go on and persist in our intensi...

Being an ordained priest is a wonderful privilege and some of the most inspiring moments are not those that we plan ourselves but the ones we are led to experience through God’s kind providence. On Tuesday of last week I was called to anoint a man who was given just a week to live and at first sight he looked like he might not last even a day. But he sat up in the bed, asked me to sit on the edge of it and he leaned against me for support. We had never met before and he seemed to have lost his connection with God, at least consciously, a connection that was broken because of the hurt he experienced as a father. Both of his sons, his only two children, were dead and the pain of that loss was palpable. For some reason we started talking about home. He came from Connemara and his great-grandmother was from Inis Mor, the same island that my grandmother came from. They were both Flahertys from different villages but the two families are related. And this thought that he and I...

When I was Addicted To Eurovision She would be The most beautiful Presenter I built her a stage Appropriate for the Graceful Entrance She would make A sanctuary of all The tender goodness In the world She did not come To this theatre Yet I find her here In my soul In memories of her son On this stage And Bohemian Rhapsody Sung Live Awakens memories Of an innocent Winter A happy Spring And a Summer filled With sorrow A long delayed Autumn And a recovery Of sorts