A poem by John O Rourke
Cuilcagh on Christmas day is squat and immovable.
Stolidly I ascend the Oggal road towards Unshago.
Near the top Surveying North-Westerly in utter silence there is meditation.
A reed quivers in the mild light.
Man is thinking reed, Quinlan,the old professor once remarked.
In lotus position there is only God.
elongated, and back far reaching runs out to Sligo,
Its mountain a foggy grey blue.
Two bushes-branches entwined are dancing
One a Hindu goddess reaching out
The other in awesome rapture appears to bow.