I dreamt I saw you – out the road-
On a Saturday evening-
On my way back from confession-
With sins unspoken-
You stood- looking towards the small field-
Where the pool of water had lain -masquerading as The Well-
An Altar of Bulrush surrounding-providing shelter for frogspawn-
Or a basket of stolen eggs-
Would you cup your hands to drink as mine once had?-
My feet gain speed in the swift and gathering light of evening-
Drawing near-heard you utter –
In the name of The North- The South- The East – The West-
The Well-appearing brighter hearing your voice-
I wish I could have placed a wreath upon your head –
With Broom and with Mountain Reed-
With Dog Rose and with Elder-
And in your hand- Déora Dé.
In memory of Seamus Heaney
A Bellaghy man.