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Then and Now
(or why I barrack so loudly)
As a kid in '68
I watched the bluebaggers
steal the sun's light
and hold it aloft.
Felt my 10 year old heart swell
like an ocean and all the pains
and all the petty hurts
dissolved in that moment.
I transcended the day to day
and entered the marvelous -
open-mouth I spun around,
sang the song and felt connected.
The universe shed its cloak
and dagger, revealed itself
to me as a smiling father,
a crowd of navy blue souls
singing and dancing
and a tram conductor
who ruffled my hair - that night
the world breathed with me.
Years pass and we forget
the youthful miracles that dwell
within, struggle to transcend anything
so I was unexpectedly shocked to see
my son's face light up
with that wonder a few weeks ago
as the bluebaggers stole
the smaller sun we call this year
the NAB cup, watched him cry out
and saw his eyes sparkle as mine
must have in the terraces of the M.C.G.
all those years ago.
Its not the same, we cannot call it
the 17th; but for my son it offered
the same transcendental joy as he swam
in the glorious navy blue sea,
his small, waving arms touched,
momentarily, that little me I have lost
in the years but who lives again
every time I cry 'Go Bluebaggers!'
_________________
This type of slight is alien in the more cultured part of the world - Walsh. Its up there with mad dogs, Englishmen and the midday sun!
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