I suppose there's no getting away from lineage, pedigree, great- great- great-grandparents, family trees, branches and twigs.... seeds falling, sailing, and taking root, growing wild and as strong as the ground that nurtures them.
.... you'd not know it from my name, but I am Irish and twice cursed/blessed because the Irish blood was forged in a Newfoundland crucible. My credentials are .... well, enviable, I guess: criminals, renegades, rogues, liars, soldiers, thieves... spinners of yarns, sorrowful and sweet; loyal in that way that only hard knocks can make one loyal, and with that fierce tenderness hovering near enough, and deep enough, to keep anyone bold enough to get close a little off balance....
the St. Paddy's day stuff can be cliche and silly and maybe even a bit overblown; yeah, yeah, everyone's Irish or wants to be, at least one day of the year. Still, I have to say, the color of my blood, the rage in my heart and the taste of my tears are reminders of connection, an unforgettable touch that is as real as the feel of your words
and all my words can't tell you how much I love touching back
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
I get it all out by listening to the pipes and penny whistles and otherwise ignore it for a day.
ReplyDeleteNever really wanted to be Irish, rather happy being Scottish. At least I don't have to drink Guinness that way.
ReplyDelete