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I learned to swim in Ballyglass as a child and revisited there last summer when Ireland had a wonderful heat wave.


Imageby Jackie Gorman 31 Dec 2013

Swimming through the rusty waters, it’s the first thing that a human being can do.
Inhale and swim through the deepest light at the bottom of the lake.
I turn through the snake like curves of the river and the lapping murmurs of summer.
I am drugged with the familiar scent of wet earth drying in the sun.
Crashing into waves from a passing boat, as I swim through my veins.
The ebb and flow I meet here might just convince me that I still have a beating heart.
In a dream that night, I swim through wounded fish and the warm waters of life.
Eyes closed, breathing in the scent, I am shoving aside the wounded fish.
The faster I swim, the stronger the scent.
Reaching a place close to the shore, where the scent is in me.
Somewhere in its depth lies my beginning and for this, I must swim.