He told me his wife was having an affair
He had taken some time out to stay with his sister, herself a recovering schizophrenic
With a dedication to The Mass that he admired, he admired her dedication greatly
Earlier, and the reason I am writing this, he told me he had seen the light
He was staring out to sea, on the cliffs of his hometown near Donegal
He had become at one with peace, he had found inner love (my words not his)
He said that if I wanted to find it I had to be prepared, I had to make myself ready
It would be hard work but it would be uniquely fulfilling
He sold me on his story, which also included only ever telling the truth, the truth as he saw it
This is the final poem, I hope you enjoyed the journey
