Begin

Begin again to the summoning birds
to the sight of light at the window,
begin to the roar of summoning traffic
all along the Pembroke Road.
Every beginning is a promise
born in light and dying in the dark
determination and exaltation of springtime
flowering the way to work.
Begin to the pageant of queuing girls
and arrogant loneliness of swans in the canal
bridges linking the past and the future
old friends passing though with us still.
Begin to the loneliness that cannot end
since it perhaps is what makes us begin,
begin to wonder at unknown faces,
at crying birds in the sudden rain
at branches stark in the willing sunlight
at seagulls foraging for bread
at couples sharing a sunny secret
alone together while making good.
Though we live in a world that dreams of ending
that always seems about to give in
something that will not acknowledge conclusion
insists that we forever begin.
--Brendan Kennelly