Why shouldn’t I possess a private eagerness,
an anticipation all of my own,
Such that it crams every corner of my soul.
And I had sworn I would never again open the door
Of my senses to any outward appeal.
But I have not kept that vow
and this dismays me.
Even though I again have tasted
The tangible loveliness of life,
Seen colours as pristine as the
beginning of life and love.
Passion or compassion? I can’t tell.
My heart and soul rushed to take it in.
But you have given me a gift,
And in that giving you have honoured me.
I have found the grace, the sense of worth.
And these new things have wiped away the hurt.
Andrew Brennan 1994-1999