Etain Is Fuamnach’s Pool
Why do I feel around me
is turning into a lake
in this room of circles where
I, a guest am left all alone.
My eyes stay closed.
I barely breathe as shards
invisible as jealousy, crush me.
Light as butterfly’s wings,
powerful as silken bonds,
they bind me prisoner.
My heartbeat slows yet
I am flying moonwards.
All is spinning so fast,
I cannot look on its kind face,
nor delight in yellow folds
of smiles and welcomes.
Now I’m being flung about
like a hurt in the wind,
back to the clouds,
a dark one grasps me
in arms like tentacles
of disappearing threads.
They imprison me, then
throw me across the sky,
plunge me to the shallows
of water I think is me –
my eyes, my heart, my head!
Earth, save me from me.
*
Fuamnach’s Pool
Logs burn so brightly,
hiss and spark their way.
Silver spruce are piled high,
flames fill their sorrow.
Footsteps, I see no being.
Some power clasps me.
I Etain, new wife of Midir,
I am water. Must I live so?
I pray I’ll float to a stream,
beg a wind to hurry me
to a good river’s heart, there
I’ll crave the gods within
to restore me to my form.
I hear the fall and sigh again,
timber is consumed by
red hungers of flame.
This room fills with heat,
water that is me, disappears,
I cannot grasp it to be still.
Changes from a silver self,
vanishes as warm dew
to the air, flees from me.
Flames crackle at me.
I bow to their words,
my head is water, barely.
Drop disappears by drop.
Soon silence of spent fire
will be my mind’s darkness.
I cannot find my way.
I must succumb for flames
drink water that I am.
*
Biography
Ann Egan, a multi-award winning Irish poet, has held many residencies in counties, hospitals, schools, secure residencies and prisons. Her books are: Landing the Sea (Bradshaw Books); The Wren Women (Black Mountain Press); Brigit of Kildare (Kildare Library and Arts Services) and Telling Time (Bradshaw Books). She has edited more than twenty books including, ‘The Midlands Arts and Culture Review,’ 2010. She lives in County Kildare, Ireland.
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