Amhairghin's Gift: A Poem by Benn

I dreamt of a hostel in a land apart
Where warm fires burned bright
Amidst a gathering of primordeal friends
Whose names I had forgot

I spoke with soft words and ringing laughter
There
Too a man
Old in face, young in heart

We drank together, he and I
Speaking only of wind, water, and whiskey,
"What was your name again?" he said
Squinting is wrinkled eyes at me

I paused
And smiling took is warm well worked hand
And gave him a false name
So I could feel the mirth of his spirit
That longed for a true Irishman

I did not have the heart to tell him
That I had fallen in love
With the shining mountains of a new
Ancient land

It was then I felt
The warm, moist breath of a lover
Just before their lips touch the back of your neck
A call, a song, a plea

I left the old man without a word
I knew, that here, he would understand
I turned to follow Her
Smelling the pollen covered earth
On Her swelling breath

Through the doorway
I saw the Perfect Land
And my heart started beating
For the very first time

The wind sang softly in Her tree covered slopes
Sweeter than any music made by man or god
And all I wanted was to walk with Her
Too never leave

I knew to ask permission

In the kitchen I met my hosts
With tears flowing down my cheeks,
"I was wondering . . .
May I take a walk out there?"

I ran into a table and could no longer
Stay the sobs
My hosts looked at me
And I saw total understanding in their eyes

Coimgne

Purest joy, mixed with purest sorrow, mixed with purest peace
My heart was in my hands
And gasping
Sobbing
I managed, "Oh . . . my heart is breaking . . ."
I never knew it could feel like this

I fell softly to my knees
While hostel, hosts, and friends melted away
Leaving only the green
Hushed
Grass covered land
Cradling my knees

I knelt there with eternity

Never wanting the pain to go away
Surrendered to sorrow
Drowning in joy
Deep calling unto deep
Humbled and exalted by a broken heart

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