Wake: Up to Poetry
Poem of the Week: “A Language” by Brendan Kennelly
I had a language once.
I was at home there.
Someone murdered it
Buried it somewhere.
I use different words now
Without skill, truly as I can.
A man without a language
Is half a man, if he’s lucky.
Sometimes the lost words flare from their grave
Why do I think then of angels,
Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Powers?
I gaze amazed at them from far away.
They are starting to dance, they are
Shaping themselves into vengefully beautiful flowers.