The Joyful News
I awoke joyous praise singing in my heart
Dawn sun kissed the slatted blinds
Telling of night’s blanket of darkness
Being cast aside
I craved to rush from my warm bed
Shout out the good news
From barntop and hillside in golden dress
Drawing on my running shoes
Ignoring the gate
I leaped the garden’s boundary wall
Blood pounding in my veins
Bound like a deer into the swelling sun
Towards the dark distant buildings of the town
At the oak tree by the mouth of the lane
I shouted my exaltation to the morning sky
Startling sleepy birds to day’s beginning
Down the hill to the slumbering town I raced
Past shops with shuttered faces in wire mesh
Empty white lines of parking space
Willing someone be on the hushed streets
My news to shout out
Footfall echoing on the empty spaces
I reach River Street and
My mother’s house on the corner site
A stone’s throw from the River Mourne
Flowing unconcerned into the Finn
I lifted my hand to the knocker bright
A light flickered at the turn of the stairs
Blood deafening in my ears
No longer able to contain my joy
I blurted out words through the wood of the door
Drawing me inside delight illuminated
My mother’s countenance
Praise be, she cries crossing herself
Joy of joys – twins – a blessing twice
Extracted from their secret place treasured
Crocheted blankets of blues and white
Pressed lovingly into my juddering hands
A present for my beautiful wife
Years of tearful waiting rewarded.
© Gemma Hill 2016
Gemma Hill Writeyou Writeme 