I Am Said I (Huruma)

In the premature falling Night Head bowed bent Forward against the absence Of an Indian Summer Rain like Rice Crispies Snap-crackle-popping On the flapping plastic Of my hood Wind whipped ears My eyes in custody See only the ground On which I walk Isolated The world empty now Except for the odd stray Runner squawking seagull Scared crow Swan heads buried In the river Hidden But not hiding I think of all the false Belongings I have tasted The true belonging Of Love That draws me in To the Claddagh church Before Mass Enfolded in the radiance Of Your Face Lifted up to intimate communion

In the severe winters Of our childhood The wind roared On rattling windows Whistling haunting tunes Through the gaps The rain beating On their thinness It was close and fearsome And thrilling And frost when it came Freezing the panes Turned water to ice In the taps And we snuggled together In double beds under Heavy blankets peeping At creepy shadows on the wall I lay in bed now listening To the wind blowing On the double glazing Of my middle age Backing away muffled and muted

Rainfall  In the evening  Silencing The barking dogs  And screaming children,  Drowning out  The roar of traffic.  And all that roars And screams And barks inside me The traffic of my soul The dogs inside my mind The children of my heart Are to the quiet come In the steady fall  Of heavy rain  It’s easier to pray.