Tintern

I told you it was self indulgent, I wrote this 20 years ago, wandering around Tintern Abbey on my own late autumn, atmospheric, stunning eerily heart tugging in the rapidly fading light.

 

Tintern

A stony road grind-winds through languid greenery

Past new ages edging  old ages peace

Into a tranquil pool succouring reflected scenery

Time flows backwards to the childlike lease

Of unhurried, unworried unthreatened womb

 

Where from to a maelstrom of an everclosing room

Realife and tensions modernity stays

Grasps drowns prays, ends to a tomb

Arising around out of an upturned gaze

 

Which Tintern reflects.  Revealing danger

Of a fastpaced careless greedy existence

The face of a child has become a stranger

But return to the old-land matured resistance

Thoughts return slowly to feed from the manger.

 

The rain.

Its green because it rains, its lashing down now. Anyway read about Fanad in the 1800's, sounds like the wild west, a land beyond borders,  land of headmen, clan battles, murdered informants turning up in a bog years later. The only way in was to be along the loughs.
A land of family groups, a few acres, a field of potatoes - mixed with Holy Wells, Colm Cille's prophesies, Sweeney's, Vikings and dolmens.
The wind is blowing around Cnoc Albhiagh, it is firing the ball bearing droplets into our eyes, the Mountain Hare, through here earlier is sheltered up now. The yellow gilded Gorse twists and bends, flicks back up after the gusts. Across the water the horizontal smoke freed out from warm fires, sit a while, take a cup of tea, a bite to eat, it's not a day to be out and about.

This is a wonderful place...

But the internet is intermittent which is appropriate

To begin...

This will be pure self indulgence.

Fanaid

Look out over a wild blue,
Falling flailing golden Gorse,
Deep green-black mountains squat,
Ice cut valleys, ancient Yew's life force,
Barely tamed people the earth glue.