Mid February.

 It’s the middle of February 

It’s the middle of February

But it well could be in June

Far down on the beach in Killiney

Where swimmers are swimming

And walkers are walking 

Women are talking

Young dogs are barking

As the tide surges in 

And the brilliant sunlight

Sparkles and shines

Past Angelus time. 

We could be in Spain

On a morning like this

When the waves are breaking

Their white crests are streaking

All the way to Bray strand 

And around Dalkey Bay. 

Sitting in sunlight

Warming old bones 

How the soul surges

When the surf rises

The waves are now roaring

Above daily sorrows. 

On a day like this 

We regain happy hope

And try to remember

How it used to be

And try to imagine 

How the future might be

When we run free

Barefoot to the sea

When we exile the masks

And inhale again

Then exhale our anguish

And place in the ocean 

Our terror and dread. 

Come awake now in Dublin

Breathe in and breathe out 

The tide is a turning

The bay is a brimming 

With with laughter and shouts.