Unbridled flight, like a herd of wild horses,
Power unleashed in a thunderous sound,
The primeval roar of ecstatic nature
As Powerscourt Waterfall leaps to the ground.
Swathed in mists, this mountainous majesty,
Radiant rainbows brighten the brume,
Small copper drops dent brown boggy water,
Below diamond diffusions that dance in the flume.
Sun spilling down from clouds brimming over
Gilding dark stone with a dazzling glow
Amid purple heather and bright yellow gorse,
Clinging high on the rockface as well as below.
There is an innocent truth in this spectacle
Where torrents cascade with implacable might,
Flooding the senses so nothing is left
But this perfect and pure and phenomenal sight.
Mists come to life in the soft mountain breezes
They surge and they swirl and their movements recall
Ancestors who danced with a wonderous abandon
Soaked in the song of this wild waterfall.
Close to the corrie there is enchantment
Where I get to leave many sorrows behind,
My spirit soars to be one with the waterfall
That holds and enfolds it and gentles my mind.
By Margaret McCarthy