Walk, My Love


I tripped today,
Somewhere
Between the road and Paddy's grave,
Alone in the thickets
And dusky heather,
And in the silken morning fog.

The blackbird listened
As I sat and cried.
She was kindly, wrinkled;
Whispering-naughty child,
Alanna-as she wiped the berry stains
From my fingers,
The bloodstains from my knees.

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"Walk, My Love" is dedicated to the mourners, the wanderers...dreamers delighting in the sovereign loneliness of rainy-day peace; the hopeful keeping in faith and prayer, childish wonder and wakeful vigilance. It is for those searching for sunlight in the small, dark corners of the earth, and singing like blackbirds in the swirl of the howling wind.