A Sonnet For Chagall

 

 

Sonnet for Chagall

These mine eyes are the windows of my soul,

where you may think inside of me you look,

therein reading me as an open book,

in gazing outward lies my own true role.

 

Let me instead show you what then I see

when brushing clear old glass, old dust, old grime,

peering closely through layers left by time,

my village returns in pale broken light to me.

 

The splintered glass gives splintered view,

kaleidoscopic beasts both large and small

loom close, they share our lives with them

as crosses do, not one so high, but two,

side by side houses stand while people call,

splintered self remembering again.

 

note: all images used in this are in the public domain

For Past Poets

In ancient Ireland poets underwent a rigorous training, an apprenticeship.  The severity of the process reflected the high status and recognised power of the poets, the bards. In this reading I have attempted a meditation upon these ancestral poets of mine. The images are all my own and taken variously in the foothills of Na Staighre Dubha, the Blackstairs Mountains and Rinn an Dubhain, The Hook Peninsula,  The dolmen is Brownstown Dolmen, Co. Carlow with reputedly the largest capstone of all the dolmens.