And where is the way
From one world to the other?
From shore to Stygian shore?
Where is the portal?
Up on the platform
Under the Bridge of Sighs
Within the Tombs
Shaped of ancient Egypt
Shade of Eastern ends
Staring stubborn doom
At multitudes unruly
Mulberry Bend
Its courtyard colored
Full of freckled faces
Hardened as Bowery
Brick and mortar. They lead him forward
Hands tied
To the portal they erected
For the time being
For the time passing
For the time escaping
(Heavier for him
Than anything borne)
To stand on the portal
To drop.
An exemplary end
Purposeful, punitive
A rite of man
Mandated marked
The time chosen
The time arriving.
He kisses the cross
Blest portal
Of the Christ condemned
Asphyxiated at the Skull
Giving weight
To Seven Last Words.
“I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country.”
Grand and generous
To lose a life
He never had.
Grave words weighted
Enough to etch in granite.
“When my country takes her place among the nations of the world,
then, and not ‘til then, let my epitaph be written. I have done.”
Magnanimous silent stone!
Pass the fight with fools
From Fenian dead
To Fenian living.
Faugh a ballagh!
Fog of valor!
Time comes, trap falls.
Through the portal he passes
Kicking like a kid
Newborn, held high.
John Kearns