to catch her soul in a line

to catch her soul in a line
I wandered off over the sand shoals of Malahide

for the marrow in her bones, life on the move
I narrowed my way across the Botanic Gardens
rampant foliage, flowers, lawns ever so smooth

the monks' artistry next engages her imagination
soft pinsel strokes illuminating our dark ages

yet her care is for people around her, food, family
school, friends, and nowhere ends
her awareness of relationships

with past pushing present into questions
Dublin City, the east somehow tasted
on a bus now she urges us for the west

and that is where her quest in a flash
comes to rest in the swan
and I know now I've caught her

as a cloud she's forlorn
on the stillness of water
in her wild flight through the storm

all of mankind is the white swan in Galway

and if it's Yeats' page she gives us light as feathers
that their hearts don't grow old

we all know 
the swan's heart is her own