Tir-na-Nog waking dream – May 2


A white open flash of Other.

Totally separate from this.

Heaven. Utter West. The

world across the seas. Tir-



This life unrolls like a

ribbon of rolling meadow

and green. I see the trees

rivers, flow. And then, as if

a cliff… a black wall where

it all stops. is not there.


It does not unroll after my

going, but is simply all stopped

Like a play shadow box that

drops off its edge to the blackest



This Other cuts across that. At

an angle, not serenely, but

as a different spatial plane

that intersects, but does not

daily see or is seen in

this one.


The vision comes sitting in a pew.

Simple, direct, a waking dream.

As an answer to the black box edge.

We were not here before, and then

we will be there, alive, open


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