If there is a use for the word halcyon
This is it:
Six o’clock on a windless,
Sun infused, short sleeves afternoon,
High up on the cliffs of Malinbeg,
The silver strand below,
Figures on the beach,
One or two along the cliff,
Each one keeping distance,
Solitary yet communal.
Me, the sun, the green of cliff edge.
Balmy. Balm to the bruised and barmy.
Green, gold, soak in the day.
Goodness flows.
Sheep defy gravity in steady appetite,
cliff clinging.
Goodness flows.
Silver sheet sea, the sun, the green.
One rabbit, then another appears.
There is no hunter, no hunted.
Safe place where all may feed.
Sheep may safely graze.
The Lord is my shepherd.
Fresh and green are the pastures
To revive my drooping spirit.
My cup overfloweth.
Look down, look out
To the silver sea,
Air unctuous.
What is curative in its own moment
Will be so on recollection.
Nothing surer.
