Poetry | For Dad

The old dining room unraveled,

The green carpet went and then,

Then, the sound of a joyous note,

A soaring note as if remembered.

It arrived not with showy splendor,

But in the soft gurgle of your laughter,

Your luminous, wide-eyed delight.

As children under a great sail,

Our little eyes watched yours, yours

Skyward, then on rippling water,

Rapt in wind-born urgent orders.

Later, I see you quietly learning,

Returning to stories which tumble

From a diamond timeless centre

Where a man with a Crocosmia heart

Passed crossroads for a second time,

There, ambushed, he stood in the open,

Alone, fearless and magnificent.

You tell me an unobserved secret;

Hand in pocket, casually, you say

That the picture of horses on sand,

Galloping on Laytown Strand, hangs

At home because that was where

Love began with mum. Dad, that is now.

Reach down from your height in bloom,

With eyes alive, spirit in full flight,

Keep a bowl of abundant fruit close by,

And take renewal from that eternal source,

It thunders grace like Laytown hooves

Here, in fearless arms that rise to hold you.