by Brendan Kennelly
Begin again to the summoning birds,
to the sight of the light at the window,
begin to the roar of morning traffic
all along Pembroke Road.
Every beginning is a promise
born in light and dying in dark
determination and exaltation of springtime
flowering the way to work.
Being to the pageant of queuing girls
the arrogant loneliness of swans in the canal
bridges linking the past and future
old friends passing though with us still.
Begin to the loneliness that cannot end
since it perhaps is what makes us begin,
begin to wonder at unknown faces
at crying birds in the sudden rain
at branches stark in the willing sunlight
at seagulls foraging for bread
at couples sharing a sunny secret
alone together while making good.
Though we live in a world that dreams of ending
that always seem about to give in
something that will not acknowledge conclusion
insists that we forever begin.
I love those last four lines Pamela.
ReplyDeleteAnother beauty - making me stop and think.
ReplyDeleteYes, every beginning IS a promise.......without them it would sometimes be hard to keep going.
Happy weekend dear Pamela.
Hugs - Mary
Brendan Kennelly is one of my favourite poets, have you read his book 'Glimpses'?
ReplyDelete