There it was, that sound, like a stick dragged down a comb – twice,
Would it be that I would see my quarry – I had four days so to do.
It had sounded so close, crreek-crreek , there it was again,
Look! over there, the sound came from there – nothing.
The evening was bright so I went for a walk, bins to hand.
Passing a field the sound exploded from the grass –crreek-crreek;
Quick look there, no only the movement of the grass in the wind
Hiding any movement of this elusive creature.
The boat went up and down, would we be able to land
On Staffa’s shore near the cave where Fingal reigned .
Yes we could so off I went in search of the clowns
That fly across the sea with rapid beat of wings.
Yet there again came this sound that was haunting me
This time some way away, but even here on this deserted land.
Up I climbed to the top of the cliff and sat on the grass
Hoping my silence would allow the clowns to come close.
Here they come wings all a flutter and land at my feet
Without any care, carrying fish in their widened beaks
So trusting these little black and white auks
With multicoloured coloured bills that bring a smile to your face.
I leave my new found friends to their precarious lives
The sandeels are now hard to find due to the greed of this world
So these friendly small birds so trusting of me
May one day not return from the sea.
Back we go to Iona’s beach, the Abbey looking on as we land.
Tomorrow we are to pilgrimage around this heavenly island.
So once more this evening when dinner is done
I’ll go and look for this creature, that mocks me from all over.
Back went I to the field where I heard them before
There’s the sound of, one, two, three even four
Rasping their call from all over this place but not to be seen
Even though they sound so close to my ears.
There! What’s that out in the middle? Is that a head
That I can just perceive of the bird that has mocked me
Throughout these last few days of my trip to this Isle.
No can’t be sure, so can’t be a tick on my list ever growing.
Off on the pilgrimage round this blessed land
With a song to Our Lord sung by all who attend
We stop on occasion to mark each place
With readings and prayer so full of Grace
After many an hour travailing this land
We come to the Chapel of St Oran
And here mid this dark and the prayer filled Church
I am struck by my God. Have I ended my search?
This feeling of power just overwhelms me
Although the Corncrake I have still yet to see
My God has taken me straight to his heart
And I am aware of his magnificent power.
I came to Iona with others who felt that they knew their God
and needed solace in this spiritual place
I came feeling the same until I heard that sound – crreek-crreek
So I started a different journey from the one I had started.
The Journey was stopped in no uncertain way
In that tiny Chapel on that glorious day when God came to me
To show he was with me and always would be
Thank you Lord for reminding me of you
It is said that the veil between Heaven and Earth
On Iona’s land is spread very thin;
I say that the veil does not even begin
Iona and Heaven have shown me their worth.
So the Corncrake eluded me again this time
But I found my God with a feeling so powerful
That it changed my life, I now know for the better.
Now all I need to find is the work God wants me for.
-
Author:
Goldfinch60 (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: September 11th, 2017 01:50
- Comment from author about the poem: I wasn't going to put this poem on today but Orchidee mentioned the hymn "Make me a Channel of Your Peace" and that reminded me of my time on Iona where we sang this hymn at one to the Services. This poem took me a long to to write, which is unusual for me, we went to Iona in 2005 and I wrote this poem in 2009, I just could not write it before then because Iona had such a profound effect on me. Even today some twelve years later Iona is still special to me and I will go back one day, but not yet, it is still too soon.
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 36
- Users favorite of this poem: WL Schuett, dusk arising
Offline)
Comments8
I was with you on this journey - some write Andy
Thank you Michael - it was some journey.
A super write and experience. Glad to have been of help by way of reminder. The second part of this very nearly fits a (Scottish) tune of 'Ye banks and braes'. It goes with words by John Bell - from Iona. The hymn is 'We cannot measure how you heal'.
Thank you Orchi, I have met and sang with John Bell, it was a great experience.
A more gloomy comment (oh no!). Yet in some places we might think God's gone on holiday, or he's got bored with our mutterings and mumblings - not everywhere though! Maybe he went on holiday BECAUSE of his boredom with our dull services?! Unhappily, I know some such places.
Wow really fine art , this is high poetry
Thank you so much WL, you are most kind.
A splendid depiction of your sacred place, Goldie! I had your experience in an ancient town on the northern tip of Lake Garda in Italy ... Riva Del Garda. It is life-changing, isn't it.
Thanks for exquisitely sharing your sacred adventure with us!
It certainly is life changing Louis, thank you for your comments.
We know god by different names and traditions but wotever god is there can only be one truth. I know god came to me in a profound way and is always with me, always there for me. I guess I'm saying i know how you feel about your experience and god. It's only recently i wonder if there is something i should be doing with my faith and knowledge. Your writing today was quite exceptional. Saved to favourites.
Thank you DA. I always agree with what Dave Allen used to say at the end of his shows "May YOUR God go with you"
It is such a great journey leading you to find your God.
Very profound piece.
Thank you M and M much appreciated.
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.