BM (26-03-45 / Salford, England)

The Winds Around Kilturra

I sat against the graveyard wall
looking out across the Mayo peatlands
reaching out to touch your souls
and the names upon the crosses
became stepping stones between
the greyness of our orb spun turnings
there in one ten graved row
the stones aged before my eyes
polished black and brightly gold
to granite wind worn grey and Lichen green.
Then the winds around Kilturra sang
and my soul reached out,
In one heartbeat those who had bought and
brought my life to this hillside
pulled me to the dancing circle
of all who's blood I held in trust.
This was the ground which held
the final paths of nine generations
I am ten, and here in this watery dawn
my heart sings the memory songs
of countless voices and my soul
dances the dance of a hundred souls
then, all to soon, Kilturra’s wind died
the heartbeat, once more became my own.
As I closed the gate upon the stones
the Bittern's called their joy upon this day
my soul gives thanks to earth and sky
for all the pathways given to my life
and at my back,
Kilturra’s wind sings me home once more

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