I set my face to westerlies
And look, from where the laws and fells
Give green away to higher hills,
And trace the arrowing raindrops;
See here, where every rock you pass
Is named, but with a child-like care,
Simplicity of Eden-tongue,
Not Babel-rich in vanity.
So there’s a tooth, and here’s a face,
An eagle’s beak, a mother’s pap,
Sweet relicts of the age of tales
When giants roved and fairies laughed,
Or jewel stars held hands and danced
A reel to some mad fiddle-tune.
Each rock is washed, incessant rain
Has lapped, or else the Minches’ tide
Smoothed to a seal-shaped, speckled mass
That someone calls the salmon’s back.
Why wait for day? The wind of night
Should bring you out to look aloft
To see auroras play you false
By leaping up before your eyes.
How empty now, where once my home
Held safe the ones who gave the names
And spoke the magic tales aloud
And gazed upon the northern lights.
The loanings where the cattle lowed
Are now bereft and overgrown;
The shieling of my infant years
An oblong ruin in the moss.
And, since the decade of my flight,
No soul remains to wonder why.
Author notes
Written May 17th, 2006
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Beautiful rhythm
As always, your images come alive and sweep the reader along in a lovely rhythm. You are very skilled at using half-rhymes, which are very subtly woven through the fabric of the poem. I always look forward to reading your work.
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Thank you. You are entitled to your opinion.
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mosly good
I think you do quite well with this. It would be easy to make it overblown but you keep your feet on the ground. Only criticism might be the balance between the first descriptive section which which I think is well crafted and what you might call the message in the last section which seems rushed and mundane in comparison. The end of the poem 'no soul remains to wonder why' is disappointing. -
Nevada, my quaich runneth over with praise such as that. Thank you. (If ye no ken whit a quaich is - it's a wee silver tassie!)
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brilliant
Mairi bheang, this poem has an the intense and excruciating beauty of Celtic poignance. I am not aware of the history behind, but I can sense the depth of feelings provoked in your sad and magical words! A brilliant poem!
Nevada -
Lily, thank you. I endeavour to express things as well as i can, to make the reader feel what I am feeling.
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Da capo!
How very beautiful, dear poet! The way you speak...yes, you write not, but speak...of the mighty rocks and your childhood sights! How unearthly...Lily -
{{{{{{{Shiny new sister}}}}}}}} So much has been written about this period in history - some of it by me - I just wanted to sum it all up in something realtively short, just giving the emotion of loss. I am glad you liked it.
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{{{{{mb}}}}}} I read a short piece on this period of Scottish history. I think I have some better understanding of the poignancy of this poem, though not nearly enough to catch the exact depth of your words. The beauty of the poem more than makes up for that for me. I so admire your poetry and your incredible knowledge of your country's history, not to mention all those other wonderful things that you know I admire you for. It is lovely, truly lovely if it can be said that this much sadness is lovely. I do like it very much.
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'Poe, I can recommend reading up about this period in history. It is fascinating and sad. Thanks for your comments.
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Thank you, Michael.
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This tells a haunting tale of memories that can't so easily
be shaken off and left for dead...I can feel the chill
off the misty sea air...and believe me I don't live anywhere
near the sea... so you did exceptionaly well with this...I don't
know the story behind this.. but I can tell it plays hard on
your mind...
lapoe...
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Bravo!
Beautifully sad, so poignant and lovely...about a horrible chapter in Scottish history. A superb poem. Bravo!
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