|Irish Augustinian Poets|
Welcome to the Irish Augustinian Poets!!
Here you will find work from some of the Irish Province which we hope you will enjoy.Work will be added as soon as we get it and we hope to keep the page as updated as we can.
Again it will happen
In the mid-silence of the night,
Like dew He will come down,
The Emmanuel of Isaiah,
Lit by the steadfast stars.
Again will angels sing,
And lanterns cast long shadows,
And kneeling shepherds
Peer in at a Lady-Mother
Radiant with her first-born Child.
In the wasterlands of our minds
The myrtle and acacia
Are ready to burst bud to new life,
The olive and the juniper are set
To blossom-deck the desert,
For God to come our way again
To wake the child within us.
But will we sense it so?
Below the season's tinsel sheen,
Will we note the littlest stirring:
The bent grass? The bowed leaf?
Or will we even faintly hearken
The distant angels sing of peace,
In land and home and heart to heart?
Or will they echo out unheard,
Out among the constant stars,
Back to the saints of God?
Lord, grant, this time of grace,
That miracles will happen;
That the hearts of all will sing
In tune with the angel song,
And that we hear, however faint,
The shepherds' joyful prayer,
And look to see a beckoning star,
Albeit from out a distant sky afar.
By Fr John O'Connor, OSA
When We Are Old
When we are old, when you and I are old,
Shall we two feel the penury and stress
Of senses that grow hourly and less,
Till, sudden, eyes and ears and hands lose hold
On light and music as on food and gold;
Will friends fail us, and all the tenderness
Which makes life sweet forget, at last, to press
Itself against our hearts ere they grow cold?
Nay, I am fain to think in other wise,
To us, will come the sunset of our years;
Through the dark void of sense faith sees the skies,
And the dear thought of men and women fond
Will shoot light thro' the clouds of pain and tears,
And speed us glad to fuller life beyond.
By A. Walsh O.S.A.
Lord, hand pick a hundred people,
Only you can
To rescue the ship wrecked world,
And lost- memory man.
Lord, you have the knowing eagle - eye
To scan the desert land,
You have the mighty wings,
You have the sensitive hand,
To save all the wayward things.
By John O' Connor osa
Where Your Heart Is
Take off the weary shoes of care
That travel everywhere but home.
Approach the burning bush of love
Be drawn unsighted to the heart of it all
Whose name, unnamed, is mystery,
And like the youths in furnace fire
Converse with One amid the flames,
Return unharmed on fire with love.
Do not cling to him alone;
Like Magdalen go tell the news:
He is risen, gone on High
Yes close to you who dare to seek
In inner room of pilgrim hearts,
Where the spirit fire will lead you home.
By Jack Crean osa
Long Days of Summer
The wonder is that there aren't ghosts
And that those walkers along Maoil a' Choirne,
On childhood Summer days
When dog daisies swept in abundant swathes
Through the verge,
Inhabit there no longer.
And we are above the sea
In flowerstudded meadows,
Sucking the sweetness
From wisps of grass
In my heart
I am captured
By your symmetries,
Longing to build tabernacles
As if all this that you are
Were distilled from your own plenty.
At every gap,
Sparrows lift from their games in the dust.
Farm- reared pheasants race in confusion
Across the path of oncoming trucks.
Someone young has died in one of the towns:
A vast silence holds the mourners.
Trees hem the roadway,
As sensuous day prolongs itself.
Near the close of evening,
We are meandering towards the river,
Faces red from wine and sunshine.
Two dogs run before us.
Barley darkens a rising field.
God is surely in the whistling of our hearts.
By Padraig J. Daly osa
The silver woods are sleeping now,
The rooks are home and quiet,
A hush has fallen on the fields,
The stillness folds the night.
The silent Moon moves through the sky,
The whole land holds its breath,
And now one senses all around
The timelessness of death.
But come the dawn of stirring things,
The new day will resound
With the joyful Resurrection theme
To waking hearts all around.
And leaf and wing will reach for light
And petals shake the dew,
And the sun will rise above the mists
And the waiting world renew.
By John O' Connor osa