When

And when this ends we will emerge, shyly
and then all at once, dazed, longhaired as we embrace
loved ones the shadow spared, and weep for those
it gathered in its shroud. A kind of rapture, this longed-for
laying on of hands, high cries as we nuzzle, leaning in
to kiss, and whisper that now things will be different,
although a time will come when we’ll forget
the curve’s approaching wave, the hiss and sigh
of ventilators, the crowded, makeshift morgues;
a time when we may even miss the old-world
arm’s-length courtesy, small kindnesses left on doorsteps,
the drifting, idle days, and nights when we flung open
all the windows to arias in the darkness, our voices
reaching out, holding each other till this passes.

John O’Donnell

Videographer Colm McElwee writes:

This poem by barrister, poet and author John O’Donnell featured in The Irish Times on April. I think it captures a lot of the contradictory, painful and hopeful feelings people are having through the lock down.

I thought the poem might go well with some music so I put something together (above) for it. John has kindly given me permission to share….

Carlow Digital