This week’s poem, for me, highlights the dangers of absolute thinking.
The poem alludes to many characters from Irish mythology, folklore, and history – the Fianna, Oisín, Niamh, and St. Patrick.
Google the story of Oisín & Niamh in Tír na nÓg, the land of gods and eternal youth (aka heaven). Or of the legendary debate between Oisín and St Patrick over the definition of heaven. Great reads!
These stories lead to the theme of absolute thinking. The pagan, Oisín, has a clear, experiential notion of heaven. Whereas the Roman priest, now known as St. Patrick, has a more faith-based view.
Both men think absolutely of their own version of heaven. And the unrepentant Oisín goes to his grave the ever-indomitable Celtic spirit, rejecting Patrick’s heaven.
Lots of fodder for dialogue here. How relevant is it today when opinions have become absolute facts? What is truth? How does our own absolute thinking or intransigence help/hurt our lives? What is the impact on society?
Please share what you think/feel in the Comments section below.
-PS Conway ☘ ☘ ☘
☘ ☘ ☘ ☘ ☘
heaven i knew
the day i returned from heaven,
i aged three hundred years, hapless
warrior poet, blind but for
the image of you, my goddess,
seared into my mind’s eye, how could
i ever forget your ageless
beauty, you in that soft blue dress
that twinkled like the stars, under
a canopy of trees dripping
with honey, holding me in your
hallowed gaze, i knew love and peace,
joyful grace and serenity;
now a helpless old man, under
duress to confess my life as
sin to this foreign priest who tends
to me in my twilight, who despite
his kindness, sings to me of hell
and its fiery lakes which await
me, and i sing to him my oath
that i welcome that fate to kill
his devil and gather the souls
who refuse to bow to his god,
forge a new Fianna, recreate
the heaven i knew in your arms.