Irish Pages LTD

SEBASTIAN'S BUTTERFLYAuthor(s): Vincent WoodsSource: Irish Pages, Vol. 6, No. 1, Ireland in Crisis (2009), pp. 121-122Published by: Irish Pages LTDStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/41412601 .

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POEM

Vincent Woods

SEBASTIAN'S BUTTERFLY

The white butterfly hovered high in a small stone church

near Barton-le-Clay.

High over the coffin of a boy whose father is my friend,

I see his pale face as I speak, quoting Dickinson, Rumi,

remember my words to him that morning, telling of

my mother's soul returning as a butterfly, pink and black, to settle on my hand the night we put her body

in the earth, of how I held her to the night sky, starlit- vast and blew my breath

three times before she'd go.

He asked: is this true? Or are you trying to give me hope when I feel as if I myself have died.

I said it happened: That is all I know.

Now I see this small winged life

brief-bright in the air, and say Sebastian s name. We falter prayer and song.

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IRISH PAGES

Later I ask Michael Did you see it -

The white butterfly?

He says no, is hurt, I think, to think that I'd invent again

for sake of solace.

But a few others saw it. That is all

And not enough, my friend, to help you bear the weight

of your dead boy

The grief, you say, an icehouse around your heart.

You say:

"Let me crawl to a mountainside and die."

A poet and playwright, Vincent Woods was born in Co Leitrim in 1 960. He has lived in the United States, New Zealand, and Australia. He is the author of two volumes of poems, The Colour of Language (Dedalus Press, 1 994) and Lives and Miracles (Arlen House, 2002), as well as seven plays. He has worked for RTE for many years, and is currently the presenter for RTÉ'sfagship radio arts programme, "Arts Tonight ". He is a member (fAosdána.

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