Echoes

2

I was taught prayer as a child, to bend the knee,
And beat the breast, to ask his peace of Christ, 
And wake with delight at the first sweet call of the bird
In praise of the Lord God punished and crucified.

Woe for this sleep on me now and my bed not readied at dawn,
And I no longer in haste to praise the might of the King,
Beating my breast and bowing my knees with grief
When the first wind wakes the first bird to sing.

And all at once the cock starts up with a cry,
And from deep sands the fish rise to the water’s height,
And sparks flash up wherever the sods are blown—
Ah, then woe, woe for this slumber on thee, thou senseless soul.

Thou senseless soul! Great is the folly of sleep 
When sparks rise from the hoarded flame at dawn, 
And boughs are stirred and leaves are stirred in the wind,
And even the birds are singing the Lord God’s praise.

Diarmuid O'Shea (Attributed in <em>Lords & Commons</em>, 1938

Source: O'Connor, Frank; Three Old Brothers and Other Poems; 1936;
London; Thomas Nelson & Sons Ltd.; p.34