Searching for inner space a million miles
away from Purdysburn's front door.
I begged my feet to keep on walking
down a road I'd never walked before .
The snow fell as my tumbled thoughts escaped,
imprisoned not by fear or pain .
I was running free from the guilt of life
until it called me back again .
My mind like a quiet laundry
washed all of my impurities clean .
Half way between Saintfields Road and the gates of hell- if you know
what I mean.
I hung up on an invisible line,my heart that none had heard speak
.
On a wrought iron gate I saw soft snow implanted by a Robin Redbreast's
feet .
Banished like clouds from the sky where I wished I could fly and never
return .
Behind my finger I could not hide,
on the long road back to Purdysburn .
Fly away my robin redbreast until you find rest in your new home
.
Beside me an icy sheet covered the Lagan
and I felt so all alone.
The silent peace of trees bleak and bare
covered me with soft serenity.
A rekindled spirit refreshed my mind
and returned me to sanity .
Reflections in window panes of institutions
are so easily sold ,
to those on their way out of Purdysburn
where some lives on a thread unfold .
By Paul McCann
