Writing on the Wild Edges: Participant Poems from Michael Philley

At the end of August, 17 creative souls gathered with us for our retreat on Inismor – Writing on the Wild Edges of the World. We had a wonderful group with participants from all over the U.S., Canada, Singapore, and Australia. I am delighted to share some of their poems over these next few weeks. Pour a cup of tea, imagine yourself on a windswept limestone island in the Atlantic, and savor for a while.

These haiku were written by Mike Philley: 

ancient beehive hut—

grayed stones etched with gold

prayers of lichen

 

winged peregrine

soaring above the sea cliff

the wind its muse

 

at the holy well—

a gnarled rag tree, steadfast

altar of blessings

 

wild blackberries

ripen on fences of stone

teaching patience

 

gravestones of ancestors—

names lost, weathered away

all facing the sea

 

the labyrinth twists

through a field of rabbit holes

ever opening

 

the currach’s thin ribs—

canvassed, coated black with tar

buoy an oarsman’s faith

 

pillars of sharp stone

guard the walls of Dun Aengus—

now only silence

 

abandoned abbey—

shadows fleeting in sunlight

like dancing monks

 

two women talking

in Irish, their Gaelic tongue—

one stirring the soup

 

Michael Philley, retired from government service, now lives with his wife, Sue, in Boise, Idaho. Several of his short stories appear in Writers in the Attic, a literary anthology. To spur his imagination, he also reads and writes haiku poetry. On a recent pilgrimage to Inismor with Abbey of the Arts, he wrote haiku expressing the island’s ancient rhythms and still abundant traditions of Celtic spirituality.