Declan
i must get to the white house
i believe that i’ve overheard
a conversation about blowing up
a branch of a building.
i must get to the white house
and talk to someone.
a friend begins to doubt
my story and i begin to doubt
myself.
belief in my experience
is stronger and i manage to
get to the white house.
i ask to see the president.
i’m ushered in and speak with the
FBI or the CIA.
i tell them what i’ve heard.
they appreciate my sincerity.
i leave the white house
and we’re walking in a town
that is becoming more and more
recognizable.
my friend continues his badgering
and i feel condescended and patronized.
overhearing the conversation
was somehow connected to a red
school house, the particular time
of 5:30 pm, and something i have
not remembered yet.
i’m certain that i heard what i heard.
suddenly there appears a red school house
and i’m reassured. i know this place.
it’s 5:30 and i hear an explosion.
just as i expected.
suddenly a few school boys run by
and they call out to their friend, declan.
DECLAN!
i’m overwhelmed and overjoyed.
i know this boy.
is your name declan?
yes, he says.
do you know the swan?
he says no.
i don’t know why i’ve asked him
this particular question but i’ve
been observing the swan for
quite some time now.
seeing declan is joyous.
seeing him and remembering
him is restorative.
i’m awash in love.
pure love.
hearing the name, DECLAN,
and seeing the boy feels
sublimely transformative.
i awake and look up the name,
DECLAN.
DECLAN: man of prayer or
full of goodness…