In the Burren, an extraordinary area of bare limestone and an unique floribundance, there are many sacred, holy or special places. One of them is Kilmacduagh, associated with a St.Colmán. You walk in over cracked and fissured limestone "pavement", carpeted in flowers, towards a high, sheer cliff, known as Eagle's Rock, at the foot of which hazel trees grow densely, cradling the Colmán's sanctuary, or "díseart", his cave, the ruins of a later church and his well, fed by Sruthán na Naomh (the little stream of the saints). Many poets besides myself have reflected in here, notably Moya Cannon, Michael Miller and Michael Coakley. This, for what it's worth, is my offering.
Colmán MacDuagh
Flowerful meadow balms
unsuspecting pilgrims’ feet,
the rocky Road of Dishes
relenting here.
Paired ravens
exult in the updraught
on the silvered face
curved in a protecting
smile around the Dove's dysart.
Soothing light filters
through the trees,
a green-lit, stained-glass
cathedral of moss and ferns
and broad, serratedged leaves.
Dappling hazel canopy
contains the thick silence
exuded by the
densely cushioned rocks.
Even the stones
here are gentled,
as all are who enter,
conversation softened
to the quality of prayer
like the hazels’
murmuring rosary
and the saints’ litany
of Sruthán na Naomh.
Reciting poems at Kilmacduagh to a terrified audience.
