As the Frost Thaws…

As the frost thaws…

The grass is a star field brought down to earth. The bright full moon shining down on the dew covered grass reflecting the stars above, stellar constellations brought down to earth for the humble to walk upon if they dare!

This cynical atheist feels his soul fill with joy each time I walk across these ancient hills,

Forged beneath the anvils of glaciers, long since melted into the forgotten memories of time.

Watching the suns rise and set where warriors and giants battled and laughed,

Fought for honour and love to be told and listened through generations.

A land where I can stand in the mark of the devil and waltz around a tree planted by the faeries,

Fearing the wail of the Banshee and striving for the Rainbow’s end.

Wandering through my memories wondering if where I went left was where I went wrong.

Cold nights in the heart of summer, warm hearts in the middle of the night,

Kisses infecting my being, love blistering my soul.

Destruction of self and creation of a brand new universe.

All changes and yet the rocks remain to say that all our triumphs and tribulations account for nothing,

And one day, maybe tomorrow, when we’re sharing the soil with the terrible lizards no one will tell,

Of the tears and the beauty

The laughter and the pain,

The crimes and the adventures,

The singing and lamenting,

The loss and the love.

Looking up to the heavens where the Gods look down and down at the sparkling grass, where the dead men look upwards.

Bones beneath the dirt decaying through the years,

memorials above crumbling against the wind

and memories mutating and twisting,

Evaporating in a generational game of Chinese Whispers.

But thoughts and feelings that make the difference, ideas and emotions that are what life is about.

This mayfly existence is enough for me and my love.


I dream of Crom Cruach and Cú Chulainn with his Táin Bó Cúailnge and Michael Collins and Fionn mac Cumhaill and Balor of the Evil Eye and ancient forts and Brendan Behan and James Joyce’s ‘The Dead’ and Ceahli’s and the Craic and the Porter and the Uisce Beatha and that night beside the Lough where the pigs use to swim.


~ by ftfagos on January 18, 2012.

4 Responses to “As the Frost Thaws…”

  1. Oh wow…. I am right speechless at your words here darling….

    “This cynical atheist feels his soul fill with joy each time I walk across these ancient hills,” I feel the same way when I walk through the mountains here.

    Is that a PS at the end??? I have to know!!!

  2. Beautifully done … and Cu Chulainn is my absolute favorite of the Irish heroes. The Hound of Ulster has a permanent place on my book shelf.

  3. Well W…
    Sort of a PS I guess. I was going to put those thoughts in amongst the ‘poem’ (for want of a better word) but didn’t feel right so I just slapped them on the end.
    And Gillian…
    He’d be mine as well, been a little while since I lifted down The Tain, I might just yet and grab some of the pic’s from it. Of course certain small things might have grabbed it and I’ll have to go of in search.
    And as a further aside I must point our that first refrain which led to the rest only came about because I step outside, on this occasion, into the cold night air and saw the stars upon the ground. And people want to ban smoking! Just imagine how much beauty would be lost if they banned drinking! Half of the literature masterpieces for starters!!!

  4. So true! the vast majority of the French impressionists were drinking absinthe the whole time.

    P.S. I was introduced to Cu Chulainn through Red Branch by Morgan Llewellyn. It’s a lovely retelling of the legend.

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