Creation (For Lyn) Poem by Dónall Dempsey
Creation (For Lyn)
First he carved
the water
whittled it
dropp by drop
placed it just so...in place
‘til it gleamed
with its perfection.
Then, with a sigh
he fashioned grass
stroking it
until it lay gentle
under his
tender hand
sky a blue
he just wished
and it was...just was.
My uncle creating
the world
as I listened
to his whistle
watching the world
come alive
under the flash
of his blade
whittling into being
(all things)
all things.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 6:22:00 PM # 1.0.0.1119
When I first read this, I thought you were talking about God...but then I remembered there are some adults who SEEM like gods to us as children, and I am reminded that this is one of the things you do best...remembering, with your child-like innocence what it WAS LIKE to be that child, and then writing it down. Every one of these that you write seems so real to me that I could shut my eyes and be a child again too. It is ONE of the things I love about your writing. Scarlett (LYN)