O God God how weary stale flat etc the world was to me only an hour ago as I cast my mind willing unwilling at careless canvas, corpse-content…but now ah I write in ears and all the lines of yearning have cut themselves salt-crystals yes I cried thinking of Ireland and my childhood and the slop, the stones and stony beaches and the air, that winding road and brakeless bicycles, swaying long grass sun-blushed and that island that was always my symbol and my heart though I never quite felt why…yes I am moved I am moved around these images and moved to tears in the inexplicable freshness of pain purging the crowded hall of my chattering gibbering selves, God! I heard her call my name in my whispering ear I seem to hear it even now, it was the first flash. Such love pouring pouring a waterfall on the rocks of the earth but the flowing tears dropped on me I grasped the key she asked me of Ireland and my mother and I broke and shook only in an instant and felt the keen taste of tears in my eyes. It was like magic her thundering love spoke I spoke of all the joys and loves and losses of my smiling youth full of joy.
You may see my going now by a trail of crystal tears.
5:30 am 19th January 2008
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