Irish Echoes

Long ago, as another me,
I sat by campfires in a grove of holy trees,
enthralled by the druid's tales of battles
fought by warrior kings who were my kin.

I knew the fear that shrank my body
and sped my heart as we,
naked but for shield and sword,
ran to meet the foe.

As swords flashed amid screaming men,
I sang of my village, my sept...
my love, I sang of you. Your hair
knotted in a neck loop of sacred design
protects me.

Long ago, as another me,
I marched with my clan
to the plains of Boyne
to repel the false King William.
I raged as we were slain:
two uncles, proud and tall,
five cousins, and my brother:
all dead amongst the strangers.

Long ago, as another me,
I was driven by hunger, by need
to preserve my name,
to ride the famine ships west.
Today, in celebration,
my children are taught,
in story, and in music,
to acknowledge who we are.