May mourning

('Darkness to Light' Phoenix Park, Dublin, 2026)

a ripple of golden bodies      brim—
      and breathe      the trees. 
yellow t-shirts over hoodies,     a loss illuminate—

            in the young who have come      
  to bear witness— 
             to the long mourning  

     hearts that got torn 
              that couldn't go on
        shame is opaque—      it separates 

    conversations holding tealights 
   canvas is sky—       the pink ink of my mind spies        delicate doors

        You—   you speak on oblivion's tongue;
                  at the end of your suffering
                          lies a door

             (at the end,      look! a door)

THE WILD IRIS
by Louise Glück

At the end of my suffering
there was a door.

Hear me out: that which you call death
I remember.

Overhead, noises, branches of the pine shifting.
Then nothing. The weak sun
flickered over the dry surface.

It is terrible to survive
as consciousness
buried in the dark earth.

Then it was over: that which you fear, being
a soul and unable
to speak, ending abruptly, the stiff earth
bending a little. And what I took to be
birds darting in low shrubs.

You who do not remember
passage from the other world
I tell you I could speak again: whatever
returns from oblivion returns
to find a voice:

from the center of my life came
a great fountain, deep blue
shadows on azure sea water.
  

This piece is maybe a blend of a witnessing, an experience I had, and a response to an arresting line from Louise Glück's poem ‘The Wild Iris’. Her stark opening line ‘At the end of my suffering there was a door’ landed with me doing ‘Darkness into Light’, a dawn walk begun in the night. The door is a hopeful one.

Along with 80,000 others in Ireland and in some countries around the world, my eldest daughter, her best friend and I set off at 4.15am. The 5km event started with just 400 people in 2009 in The Phoenix Park in Dublin to raise money for Pieta House who work to support those whose lives have been touched by self harm and suicide.

My first dawn Camino was about 10 years ago for a childhood neighbour, when his family and close friends came together to show support for him, a young dad who sadly took his own life. So many at the time of his passing did not know how badly he was struggling.

So many young people and families turned up at Darkness into Light this year to remember those who had passed, but also those struggling with mental health. This emerging understanding about mental health, self harm and intrusive thought is coming out of the corners of shame it once lived. There’s emerging vocabulary in society so we can talk more openly about these delicate topics.

I believe this is the time to have been born in all of history if you want to do the difficult journey of self-healing to live a more wholehearted, meaningful life. A journey seemingly impossible to do alone.

Life will continue to fling its challenges, but this walk was a reminder to me about a world that is healing.

The doors. Look for them.

Also sending this one up for the 14 Irish who had been captured by the Israeli navy off the coast of Greece this week on their way to bring much needed aid to Gaza. I know one of the captive’s mothers locally here in Dublin. Their families and friends had been sick with worry awaiting their return. They are currently on their way home, as extraordinary everyday heroes. Something huge happened this week. The 400 plus international flotilla have sparked debate in Europe about what can be done to unite against humanitarian injustice in Gaza and beyond.

A door brought them safely home.

Songs for the words. Spotify list below, best played on random.