Category Archives: Hope

Situation Vacant

They sat looking blankly at each other.

Every century the position changed hands.

Tensely they sat around the circular surface.

‘Who’s turn is it?’, said the current keeper?

Silence fell amongst them, then they laughed.

‘ I think it’s time we went down’, said Cultivator.

‘We have wasted enough time watching them kill each other, we planted the seed of democracy thousands of years ago, yet recently it seems to have backfired again.’

Tactile crossed her five legs awkwardly, interrupting with a musical cough. ‘Very well, shall we send down some representatives to wake the Earthlings up?’

The glass room erupted with laughter. The general consensus was to stay out of unknowing planets affairs. Instead a watcher would monitor progress. Each century the situation would become vacant.

A new Keeper was required, yet not one species from any planet was willing to offer their services. Which is why a meeting was called.

Reason from the planet of the Misunderstood stood up offering some perspective.

‘Our people have lived through many debates, we fought arguments with counter arguments. Eventually our people lost their voices, now we communicate through actions. There is great peace in the silence, the new generations are learning to speak again. They speak with peace in their tone. Is it not better to let them fight it out? Learn to build up from the ruins of their mistakes?’

The keeper shook his heads.

‘I’m afraid I see a pattern emerging again. They have not learned from past mistakes. They are building buttons to press, which, I might add, could cause a ripple effect on other young planets. They want to build walls rather then break through barriers of hatred. They let innocent children die, instead of providing refuge. There are some who want to make the world better, they are few.’

Tactile rose and said ‘Let me see if I can affect their thinking, I will fill the vacant situation, I will take the seat of Keeper for one of their years. If I see any shaky hands about to press a button, we will turn off their power, take down their Wi-Fi connections and send down a universal intervention committee.’

‘How do you intend to affect their thinking?’ asked Reason.

‘ I will show them their true selves, every time they see their reflection, they will wince with pain if they cause it. They will feel happiness if they cause joy. They will become what they think. It’s a very hands-on approach but it should help them see who they really are’, said Tactile.

Reason understood Tactile’s thinking, though he feared there may not be many left on Earth after the year was up. ‘ You have the support of our planet’, said Reason. ‘Eventually every species must see themselves for what they have become.’

Tactile began her role as Keeper. She was determined to kick the ball of change into the Earth’s atmosphere with one of her many legs.

No longer was the Situation Vacant.

An Peann

 

Under Cavan Skies

On the 360th day of the year with four minutes to midnight we stood under clear Cavan skies.

Every star had a sharpness so bright they could make an atheist bow at their majesty.
You cannot deny what the eyes make you see.

Orion’s Belt was fastened with clarity.
A question mark backwards demanded we ask ourselves the unanswerable.

Above Orion was a red star.
Stars normally don’t impress me, they make me dizzy.

They crowd my thinking, take my breath away, make me feel small and overwhelmed. They frighten me with their boastful eternity.

They will continue to shine long after we are gone.

The Ancient Greeks once thought there was a blanket behind the skies, they believed the blanket was pierced with little holes, in which the light shone through.
Those lights are what we call the stars.

Time teaches us to believe different things.

As we stood under the lights, I listened as he told me what the constellations were called.

I listened because these past few weeks have taught us that although the stars relentlessly shine, those we love can dim their light.

People can walk out the door and never come home again.

Children can be taken before they are given the opportunity to shine.

Who’s heaven decides such fate?

Illness can meet you at unexpected places, leave or take us into his arms and walk away with us.

Walking up the yard toward the house, the blue lights of the suspended Christmas tree on the street outside, brought us back to the falseness of our reality.

Our made up world that we focus so much on, fades in comparison to the Greek blanket hanging in the Cavan sky.

Oh, the beauty and fragility of life.
Understanding that brightness can be found even in the darkest corners, can resurrect our hopes.
There is such power and strength to be found in the darkness of life, for through the darkness is the epitome of life – those everlasting twinkling beacons of night’s light.

If only we could remember to bring those stars into our day’s light.
There may come a time, you need to fight for some light, if you do just remember
that once the Greeks believed in a pierced blanket in the sky.
Anything is possible, if you are willing to see the light.

An Peann

 

A Coat of Vulnerability

I once had the pleasure of hearing Patti Smith perform in London. Only two hundred of us shared a room with her.
I was young and mesmerised.
It was one of those evenings; I banked preciously in my mind.
A night I knew, I wouldn’t forget.

Recently, she was asked to sing at the Nobel Laureate Ceremony, when she was asked to sing the winner hadn’t been announced.
She soon found out Bob Dylan her hero, was the person she would be honouring with song. She decided she would sing Dylan’s ‘A Hard Rain’s A-Gonna Fall.’ A beautifully painful piece.

Hard Rain fell as she sang, the words left her.
Accompanied by a full orchestra in the company of dignitaries and royalty, she had to stop.

‘Sorry, can we start over? I’m so nervous?’

Instead of being another star’s falter, it became poetry in motion. The ultimate illustration of how we can all make mistakes. In a cold world, where people are quick to judge and slow to praise or support each other, Patti wore a Coat of Vulnerability. A delicate outfit worn by a beautiful human being.

Patti a hero of mine, honoured her hero Bob Dylan. Her performance was stunning, more splendid by the stumble.
Sometimes words leave us.
Sometimes people leave us.

We can always find our song again, even when we are nervous.

Mistakes are good, they are the lessons that help us find our way again.

Imagine a world where we could, just start over again?
We live in that world.
Patti wore a coat of Vulnerability, she wore it well.

An Peann

Dedicated to my favourite singer in the world Olivia Luc her lovely husband and beautiful family. They have had their own painful song to struggle through recently, together they have strength and love in their song. Well wishes to you all. Xxx

 

The Worry Bear

They now have a Teddy Bear that children can put their little worries into.
They write down their fears and troubles place them in Teddy’s pockets and he takes them away.

Adults could do with a Bear like that too. Carrying around your worries is back breaking. They weigh down the mind and colour the heart blue.

My Worry Bear was once my Mother. She carried around all her own worries, but she always left room in her pockets for our troubles too.

Although we think people have their own concerns, we should never be afraid to share our fears.
A problem shared shrinks a problem, it’s true.

Be someone’s friend tonight, hold out your arms for a cuddle, let someone know you are listening. Worry Bears come in all shapes and sizes. They are the stuffing that family and friends are made of.

Worry Bear’s are made from the fibres of a caring society.
A Worry Bear always has room in its pockets, for a true Bear’s pockets are lined with love, time and care just for you.

Open your Bear pockets tonight. It costs nothing to help make a worry feel light.
One day you might need a Worry Bear to tell you ‘everything is going to be alright’.

An Peann
Sending Bear Hugs out to everyone in need tonight.

 

 

The Tunnel of Buried Dreams

The tunnel has no doors
No way back

The light outside is so
blindingly beautiful
and utterly terrifying,
That with great hesitance and difficulty
We struggle to trek towards it

The light that people talk about in death,
Is that same light that wants to shine for you in life

Shadows only block the light to take away your flame,
Keep you in your place, tucked away from change

We will never know how good the light feels
If we are always afraid to be seen

The tunnel has no doors
No way back

Stepping outside the tunnel today,
Let the light sow you a purpose,
Exquisitely stitched from
The seams of buried dreams.

An Peann

The Bookman

The first time he looked at me, I knew no one had ever looked at me that way before.
We met after a play in the Abbey called Drum Belly. The play was on my upcoming English exam. I wasn’t going to go, as money at the time was always needed for other things. 
My friend and fellow student Michéal, bought me a ticket, so like Cinderella I went to the Abbey.

It was a great play, hadn’t been to the theatre for years. 

Later a few of us from college went for some drinks. Michéal told me his friend was coming in to meet us. 
In arrived his friend, a man with a bounce in his step and huge smile on his face. 

I marched through the city between these two friends, we had some food and went back to his pals, where they played guitar, laughed, chatted and sang. It was a great evening. They put me in a taxi later and sent me safely home. 
A few weeks later Micheal told me his friend had offered to get the English books on my reading list for 2nd year. He worked at a University. I was delighted, they would have cost me a small fortune to buy.
I saved his number in my phone as the Bookman, never knew his surname. True to his word, he got me every last book I needed. I just had to go collect them. 
In the back of my mind I wondered what were his motives, Michéal told me he was just a nice guy, a diamond he called him.
I collected my books one Friday evening. We interrogated each other and went our separate ways. 

To be honest, I wasn’t looking for love, I was happy for the first time in my life. It was just me and my little boy. We were doing just fine by ourselves. 
I promised the Bookman I would buy him a few beers if he was in Lucan sometime, but I never called him. Later that night I sat admiring my pillar of books, thinking, Jesus, do I have to read all of them? 
  A few weeks later the Bookman phoned. He asked me out for dinner. Sushi and a movie he suggested. I didn’t know how to hold chop sticks and I never ate Sushi. I braved it, ate the Sushi, which was divine and we rushed to the Light House cinema to catch our Woody Allen movie, which we were late for.

 When we arrived they somehow had double booked our seats. The guy on the door was so apologetic. He really wanted to help. He dashed away and came back with two big armchairs, which he plonked in the aisle for us.

 I remember thinking to myself, it was a fire hazard having us block the exit. Think that was the law student in me. 

We sat down like the king and Queen of the Big Screen and laughed. 

As the Bookman leaned in to steal a kiss from me, the usher was walking back towards us. He said, ‘I’m so sorry but I’m going to have to ask you both to leave, it’s a health and safety issue.’

He took away our thrones and we went off and had coffee and cake. 

That was three years ago now. The Bookman’s name is Éamonn. He changed our world, words couldn’t describe what a truly wonderful man he is. I couldn’t be without him. 

Today is his Birthday. He is my diamond. 

Happy Birthday Mr Bookman

I love you. Xxx
An Peann