The Secret Name

The Secret Name

first published The Writers' and Readers' magazine Jan 2020

There was a young man, and his name it was Scott,

but that was a given name, and his real name it was not!

He grew up on an island where lots of little people play,

and when he walked among the trees he thought he heard them say:

‘Listen for your real name. It’s hidden in the sounds.

It’s hiding in the sounds of nature, that are all-around.’

As little Scott grew older, he put thoughts of all else aside,

and tried to used the magic in his mind, - in every way he tried.

The trees, the grass, the clouds way up high; they all knew his name,

but no matter how hard he listened it was always just the same,

though he knew they all whispered it right out, loud and clear,

it was only haunting nonsense to young Scott’s still straining ear.

The birds, they tweeted and called his name, over and over again,

the wood pigeons softly cooed it, with such sweet refrain,

the red squirrel chattered and the little shrews squeeked

the fox barked at nighttime, and all day the wide-winged buzzard screeched,

but little Scott was all grown up now, and could no longer understand,

and still he searched and listened on his journeys, throughout this magic land.

He searched through books and websites, with names both strange and foreign, 

even went on outings with his Grandpa to try and spend a florin,

he did crossword puzzles and swiped touchscreens, whatever he could find,

in the hope that even one thing, would jog his silly absent mind,

he listened to the whispers, of winds both soft and stormy,

he even went to Clare, and kissed the stone at Blarney.

All the trees who knew his name, rustled it out loud,

but Scott could never hear it, no matter how hard he tried.

He searched for it in English, in Arabic, Irish, and ancient Sanskrit,

Swahili, Hindu, Binary, and the fairies language, Biscuit.

Finally he realised, though all around him clearly knew his name,

he would never know it now, until his second childhood came.

Now all you boys and girls who think you know who you really are,

remember only Mother Nature knows your special name, both here and afar,

and just like snowflakes, no two names will ever be the same,

and just like you listened carefully, to our little rhyme,

you must now go listen with Grandpa, or when walking down the lane,

‘cause Mother Nature loves you, just like your Mom and Dadda do, 

but it is only she can whisper your two names, both the given and the true.

©Niall OConnor 2019