Evening has come clear across the sea,
Overcome the shadows in the yard,
And long passed among the houses to the west
-- A few stars in the corner of each window.
By firelight, lantern light, by candlelight,
Long after dinner, the whiskey blazes in the glass,
words flow easily as more wine,
Though outside the wind,
According to its season, brings
Thunder, rain or snow.
The ancient Celts, our ancestors,
Loved eloquence
More than fierceness or strength,
For they knew well the long night
Would outlast their enemies.
And tonight
Each of us has brought the sacrament of his loneliness
And entered the magic circle.
As our talk, our silences, advance
Toward a stillness where
Some ghostly truth seems to hover
in the air
If I could only hold your faces there
Forever, those inward-looking smiles,
When each silently praises
The strange gift of his life
-- and the long walk home.