THE TIN WHISTLE

The Tin Whistle

Before I came here I was given some names
Some to nurture and some to blame
They also gave me some numbers, just then
Some to have fun with, and some to claim

I chose me some people
To live with and learn
I chose a big country
For it seemed like my turn

But lastly they turned to me
Just as I was about to come
And they layed on my left shoulder
A heavy old urn

Carry this well my son
Said the last
And when you think your done with all them names and numbers
It may come to pass

You may put down that vessel
That you carry on your left
And you may find much relief
But that feeling won’t last

For the urge to look inside
The burden you have long carried
Will be like a pain in your heart
Of the love you have just lost
The love of your life
And the one you had married

Such is the ache
Many times you may try to replace the urn atop your broad shoulder
But you will not succeed
For you will understand that you must have carried that vessel well
And what’s inside must be freed

Listen well my son
For while all must carry
When the time comes to put down that life long burden
You must not much ail or to tarry

For what lies inside -is you
And you are IT, you see
And you cannot long be parted
Else you die in reality

But a treasure awaits you
If you could but see now
This I do promise
But I can’t tell you how

Go well now my son
And carry that urn well
And if that day comes to pass
Know that you were not the first
And you cannot be the last……….

So I came this way
To begin again right
And so I fought by the day
And I died night by night

Eventually, all was forgotten
In the heat and the noise
And I lived like a donkey
Swaying under the load I could never see
But always felt was somehow mine
And mine alone

And sometimes late at night between the tears and the rage
Once in a while a calm voice would whisper…
Keep going, my son
Keep going… you’ll become wise

So I crouched bent double for many a year like a bull
Years more I was disjointed
And a crafty old fool

Keep looking down I said
It’s the only way to be
But then one day dawned different
And I finally realised my life was me

So I stopped in my tracks
And I looked in the mirror
I aspied on my shoulder
A rusty old glimmer

My fingers went for the thing
I felt substance in my hands
And with a wrench it was clear now
And resting on the ground

I sat there for days it seems
That thing between my knees
My throat did not know now how to cough
And my nose wouldn’t sneeze

But I cried and I cried
And I wouldn’t open my eyes
And I hugged the damn thing
As I sobbed my good byes

My old life was over
I could see that right then
And though I tried to replace it
The back wouldn’t bend

I saw myself then as I had been just before
Walking straight then with little burden
And knocking on the door

My call had been answered
And the vessel was mine
The burden I’d long carried
And now it was time

I opened my eyes then
And my gaze fell upon this mould
And though my tears had now cleansed it
It was still crumbled and old

It simply fell apart in my fingers
As I tried to turn it around
Then the grains slipped through my hands
And returned to the ground

In place in the rubble
Atop of the mound
Was an old metal object
Of rusty and round

I reached right into the dust
And I picked it on up
And I held it up high
As I inspected my cup

At first I could not quite believe my eyes
So I rubbed them hard and blew my nose
I passed it from right hand to left
And gazed into it more close

It was made of met-erial
I had yet never seen
No matter how clever
Or travelled I’d been

But that was not what got me
As I sniffed at my hand
For I was holding an old tin whistle
And it really didn’t - right then - look too grand

But then something caught me right then
Something tickled deep inside
And I doubled up in stitches
And laughed until I nearly died

And when all the laughing and crying was done
I polished me whistle on me sleeve
And tore a strip from my gown

I bent my head low
And I placed on my breast
The fruits of my labours
Laced loosely -my crest

For all of my life
But a symbol I’ve been
No more, no less
Until now, never seen

It may not seem
but much of a thing
But to me it’s a sign
That the heart always wins

And if you’re feeling downhearted
And not facing your fear
Take care, my friend,
For I’m as like to blow my wee whistle
In your big stupid ear

How loud or how soft
Will depend all on you
For you see, I already have my tin whistle
What symbol is yours?

And think not that my whistle
Is but all that it seems
For to me this wee treasure
Is the stuff of my dreams

We learn as we go don’t we
My wee whistle and me
And as the note becomes purer
The clearer it be

For as a symbol of me
It’s anything it needs me to be
So I can play Trombone, Maracas
With Tuba -and drink Tea

But I’ll ne’er forget the bull-donkey
The treads and the urn
For how else did I learn to stand straight
And to have fun

And for sure I’m not laughing
Every day to the grave
For I’ve started just again
On yet another bloody page

And as the tears they still come
And as the battles they get crazy
Me thinks to blow a wild tune
For the terminally lazy

With love and laughter from a Bard of the Setting Sun