The sea from Dollymount Strand
The mystic clamour of creation
is in the onrushing tide
it is a din that gently curves
the soul of man wisely chides;
'tis where the ancient Irish kind
is pressing near its force
when primordial waters flowed
and from whence all life its course,
was shaped and shone as one;
the onward rhythm of each
timed and measured surge -
a metaphor for the quest of man,
the riddle of the pirate's purge
which braves the dirge and clan.
A giant chasm its heart opens
for the world o' free living
part soul mother of creation
and cruel destroyer in its giving;
all winsome waves and crashing bolts,
under moody skies forgiving;
can charm like Summer's colts
the pauper's mind in dark moon's feast,
or take life at its command -
a giant cavern with voice fleeced:
its complex heart like open hand;
a confessor to the crowd
message combing its deep secrets;
the sea breaks out of its mystic shroud
with baffling waves dexterity
its soul empties for posterity!
13/9/2002
Interesting thoughts of the mind...!
ReplyDeleteThanks again, my friend! When one has been to a place many times, one feels tied to it as an invisible umbilical cord!
ReplyDeleteWonderful! Some 30 years ago I lived on Clontarf road, close to Dollymount strand ... I wish it had inspired me so well as it inspired you and that other writer...Seamus Joyce?
ReplyDeleteMichele, more and more I believe we have many paths that connect and it can't be accidental! Aye Seamus Joyce: one of his seventeen homes in Dublin was Fairview, whilst he was in Newman house.
ReplyDelete