Turlough O’Carolan, harpist/ composer, born blind 1670, Co Mead
First morning sun pries open the mountain;
Her rays sparkle on the pond and disturb the geese.
Light rushes across the field, illuminating sheep
as it passes.
Straight rays bolt through the open cabin door and creep
to Baby’s breast and rest there for a moment, rising and falling.
Then over to the market, to swirl among the villagers
Already bartering bread.
Light stretches out until
Beams waken the hills beyond,
And a swift swallow of lyric sound
Bursts out of boundaries and swallows
All County Roscommon.
What was dark is now covered
With Light and cloud Shadows racing in circles
Above the meadows where wind makes the
Rye wave in wild confusion.
In the evening they lie next to each other,
Light and Shadow,
in sweet smelling grass.
They entangle with delight until twilight sends
Them, oh so slowly, back into the ground.