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Sunday, June 03, 2007

Tadhg

dig...dig deep,
Tadhg* my heart is buried
at the front of your door;
dig deeper still,
the soul keeps a vigil
there too, a student waiting
for its mentor; it waits for you,

listen..hear me,
patiently brushing underneath
that door's dead mahogany,
so many dead things in kind
blocking the ways to you;

dig...dig deep
at the deepest point
there you'll find a simple man,
with poems bursting out of him
in spite of everything,
that come unasked out of his
buried heart and mind,

listen..hear...
a sweet whispering that sings
through me in prayer for
the climax of our souls,

hear me speak
where fears worship
in a temple of longing
running too deep
to be held back lightly;

after God they turn to you
on questions to who I am,
a wise deity that conceives
all my given names,
but refuses to philosophise,

dig...dig deep
to the truth of what you are,
a caricature of death
that separates the soul
from its home,

yet you kill
without dividing the two,
listen..hear me
and kiss me
and keep on kissing me
until you die or I die in you.

*Tadhg is an ancient given name that meant "Poet, Philosopher" in Gaelic

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