In the play of sunlight and ripples,
that dance of the
lake’s finery,
Feichín sees the
splendour of Heaven
and sends his thanks
to the Lord.
In the fish, silver
treasure of the ocean,
the plenty that
graces his table,
Feichín enjoys
their steam-play with his nose
and sends his thanks
to the Lord.
In the carpet of
brightly coloured flowers,
bee-droning machair
near the shore,
Feichín antcipates
the sweetness of honey
and sends his thanks
to the Lord.
In the uninhibited
song of the lark,
sky-high notes from
among the dunes,
Feichín feels the
joy of God’s presence
and sends his thanks
to the Lord.
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