Donegal

Folding mist,

blurred edge of land and sky.

Roads twisting, turning, falling, rising, 

each curve a poem.

Where are you leading me, I asked?

Just keep walking came the reply.

 

Wavelets bright as stars in a night sky

flashed around a large, grey rock,

grounded in shallow water.

What holds you so still I asked?

Contemplation, came the reply. 

 

The bright river flowed swift and sure, 

singing to low-lying fields swamped 

in quiet pools, to stones on the river-bed and

under the hump-back bridge in answer to

the distant call of the wild Atlantic Ocean, 

its song familiar somewhere in my heart.

A scattering of cottages dotted hillsides, 

wandering sheep grazed, their wool

snatched on brambles and littered on 

muddy ground like dirty snow.

Curiosity brought them running to the gate,

allowing my brief human touch before retreating,

like goats, scrambling over hillocks and in-between

thorny bushes to watch from a safe distance.

 

Where do you belong, they asked?

The answer came in a light-filled puddle ,

with my reflection, held, in water, rocks and stones,

mountains, fields, sheep and roads that bind and lead.

About maskednative

I live in Ireland, in an extended cottage overlooking Waterford Estuary, privvy to constant changes of light on water, colour and movement, tides and people. I am anglo-Irish and although my initial intention was to live here for a year and a day, I am still here, a blow-in to these shores for the past fifteen years. There have been countless times when I wanted to run back to England with homesickness and relief, but for one reason or another, so far, it has not been possible. I surrender, the soul of Ireland has captured me, allowed a glimpse of the world behind the mask of everyday experiences, bringing forth a mixture of words and pictures from an ordinary everyday life, filled with ordinary everydayness that I offer as a celebration, to the creator of this truly wonderful planet.
This entry was posted in Diary Of A Blow In and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to Donegal

  1. Tom says:

    I could feel the gentle tugging, the anticipation, a subtle longing.

    Simply beautiful.

    Like

  2. maskednative says:

    Thank you Tom. It is those wild places that have a way of allowing our belonging in everything, it was quite special.

    Like

  3. Welcome to My World says:

    This is so beautiful. Thank you.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. There are so many phrases in here making up the whole that delight and soothe. This is beautiful.

    Like

  5. maskednative says:

    Thank you Steven, I always find it difficult to put into words, the simplicy and beauty of those wild unspoiled places in nature, so your comment is much appreciated.

    Like

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