Ogham Stone Poem by Bernard Kennedy

When I was young,
an ogham stone stood beneath our hall mirror.
An ancient alphabet no less.
As we got ready for the day,
looked on return.
A meditation leading inwards,
to unconscious thoughts,
awaiting delivery like the bing of an incoming email.
Calming bind and heel rugby memory.
An alphabet of ancient understanding.
A stone of Sisyphus eternal desire,
like biblical stone of moral memory,
awaiting its bing,
The Word is the Thing.
A familial alphabet its tool.
An Ogham stone beneath the mirror.
An psychonalytic position.