The Monks of Skellig Michael – a poem by Greg McClelland

 The Monks of Skellig Michael
                                             (Ireland, 6th Century)
 
I'm with you always, till the end, You said.
I look for You in desolation, high
between the sea and sky and, living dead
to world and self, transmogrify
to something less or more than merely human.
My minutes, hours, days are tolled by breathed
novenas, heaven's furious sun and rain,
sweeping waves of screaming sea-terns weaved
through cloud-thrown tapestries of light and shade,
and constant sea-borne bass of boom and rush.
I feel You in the rote of night and day,
and hear You in the deepest evening hush.
 
The last west rock before the endless sea,
from Skellig's crags they glimpsed eternity.
 

Greg McClelland is a retired federal government attorney. He has written poetry throughout the years but has only made a concerted effort to publish it since retiring in 2013. He has published poetry in Ancient Paths, The Road Not Taken, and New Verse News. He has one Pushcart Prize nomination.