From “Jimmy”: My favourite poem is ‘When All the Others were away at Mass’ by Seamus Heaney
‘When all the others were away at Mass’
When all the others were away at Mass
I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.
They broke the silence, let fall one by one
Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:
Cold comforts set between us, things to share
Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.
And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes
From each other’s work would bring us to our senses.
So while the parish priest at her bedside
Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying
And some were responding and some were crying
I remembered her head bent towards my head,
Her breath in mine, our fluent dipping knives –
Never closer the whole rest of our lives.
by Seamus Heaney
I have loved Seamus Heany’s work for a long time. My suggestion for our curent celebration is James Plunket’s “I see Hs blood upon the rose”. I suggest for the violin Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony (not all of it!) just “After the Storm”. and my favorite hymn is “Oh Lord My God, When I in awesome wonder”. please try to include at least one of these, I am cocooned and find great solace in the daily Mass being streamed. Thank you very much for all your efforts. I am a long time parishoner, having moved into Balally in 1964.
My favourite violin pieces would be Meditation from Thais by Massenet and An Cuilin Irish Air. The hymn I would like to hear “ Thine be the Glory”.
My favourite poem is Begin by Brendan Kennelly. I have always found it very inspiring.
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.
Begin 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 seems about to give in
something that will not acknowledge conclusion
insists that we forever begin.