Angel of the Bog -oil/panel - 7"x5" - sold
This piece was created out among the bog land of Achill island in an area near Shraheens.
The earthy colours that surrounded me were all encompassing. Then I spotted this lone windswept tree - an angel of the bog.
'The angel of the bog mourns in the wind
that loiters all over these black meadows.
Remembers how it chose branches to strum
From the orchestra of trees that stood here;
How at twilight a chorus of birds came
To silence in nest of darkening air.
Raindrops filter through leaves, silver the air,
Wash off the film of dust to release nets
Of fragrance on which the wind can sweeten
Before expiring among debris
That brightens each year with fallen colour
Before the weight of winter seals the ground.
The dark eyes of the angel of the bog
never opn now when dawn comes to dress
The famished grass with splendid veils of red,
Amber, white, as if its soul wrere urgent
And young with possibilites and dreams
That a vanished life might become visible'.
From 'The Angel of the Bog' by John O' Donohue
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