Reflection on Synge and Life

i fell in love with the work's of John Millington Synge by accident
at university, i used to sit in the Wise library
pouring over Yeats and Wilde for hours
their gilded bindings, finely textured paper,
and ancient publish dates entranced me
it was if my allergies were immune to their musty smells
i miss it there

it was on such a day that my eye stumble a glance upon
a bright yellow binding as i turned away from Oscar's section
it read "the Aran Islands"
a place whose people & traditions i hold close to my soul

Synge's illustrative language resonated warmly in my mind
and even now, my mind hazily drifts into thoughts of his life

after he died Jack B. Yeats said of him...
"Synge was by nature well equipped for the roads. Though his health was often bad, he had beating under his ribs a brave heart that carried him over rough tracks...Now that he is gone there is nothing sad in my memory of him, except that he is gone."

one time i asked my mother why
i was given a body & spirit that didn't match
she responded without the blink of an eye
that perhaps without my spirit
i might not be able to move

nights when i lay unable to sleep
through excruciating joint pain
this simple reminder
draws a tear down my cheek

gives me a brave heart
to persevere over rough tracks

and hope that someone would think
so fondly of me when i pass