Follow An Slí Mór until at last it can be seen no more.
Erin’s gravel spine lies there broken by main artery.
Emerald cut stone drumlin way rent by flowing river.
Not of ice but one of lives lived since in and around.
There find past and present sat in scoped crosshairs.
Neath shadow of round tower a perfect resting place.
Bog Stained pilgrim sated twixt high water and cross.
Lungs open to be filled by driven wind of Atlantic sky .
About there I could happily take to glacial dry ground.
Lay down for an eternity with blind eyes and deaf ears.
Endless days of western skies pierce ignorance inviting.
A resurrection to dip once more into the river of life.
Shaadi – 08/02/2014