Sean Walsh

I live in Dublin, Ireland. Sometimes. Most times I live in my head, quite unaware of my surroundings – if you know what I mean… If you succeed in tracking Sean Walsh, please let me know, ok? I've been searching for him for years…

Celine… wee recall.

Published on Thursday 21st October 2021 by Sean Walsh

Fifty years a religious, Sister C. ‘Calls for a celebration, no? My wife and I among the favoured few. Several days before the event the good lady handed me a page or two of typescript. Would I read it aloud in place of the communion verse at the celebration Mass? Of course I would. . .

‘Read it… mulled over it… rehearsed it… A poem unlike many another… The more I read it, the more I got into it – and the more it got into me… Begin by Brendan Kennelly…

Came the day, the morning, the mass celebrating the life of a religious who had given herself to others – in Africa and here at home… who never, ever, stayed down… if ever… whenever…

And when I came to read the final verse I sensed a hush…
as if those present were somehow aware of greatness:

“Though we live in a world that dreams of ending
that always seems about to give in
something that will not acknowledge conclusion
insists that we forever begin.”

Copyright © 2021 Sean Walsh

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