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…
C B S
Dundalk, Co Louth, Ireland.
I was still in my first pair of long trousers
when a priest from the Redempt’rists
came to give us the School Retreat
at the start of Lent:
thunder and lightning the first half –
you could hear a pin drop –
a loving, merciful God, the second…
(Francie Muldoon hasn’t cursed since
and Gerry Crosby broke it off
with Philomena Farrell…)
And I went to him for confession:
it was behind a screen in a classroom in the Primary.
Afraid of me life I was
but he wasn’t the same a tall
as when we were all together in the Hall
and he was telling us from the stage
that it only took one mortal sin…
So I was a new pin coming away…
Though I thought my turn would never come –
the lad before me was in with him for ages,
whatever was going on…
By the end of the three days I didn’t know myself.
Walking on air I was on the way home
through the town – dark, rainswept, dismal –
but how was I to know? Wasn’t I in Heaven!
One hand in a coat pocket, fingering the beads
and me singing me heart out but so low
no one could hear –
Heart of Jesus, Heart of Jesus,
Burning with love for me
inflame my heart, inflame my heart
with love… with love of Thee…
And he did, to be sure he did! Inflame my heart.
Burnt into my very soul. Lifted, I was. On fire!
A flame – oh, a furnace!
And then… Then?.. Ah-hh… Adolescence.