On Easter Sunday morning
Changing time brings
Longer days and a great
Stretch in the evenings.
Framed between Bray Head
And Dun Laoghaire, the Bay
Sleeps, awaiting a resurrection
And I feel privileged.
Slowly, surely clouds part
And shafts of light
Pierce the waters, gently.
Soon it will be morning
I watch distracted as
More and more light pours
Through heavenly clouds, until
Reflection blinds this sinner.
Sugarloaf, Bray, sleeping devotees.
The Holy Ghost is here
And I am all alone in appreciation.
Surely this is Heaven on Earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem