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Monday, November 30, 2015

" What It Means to Me to Be Irish"

                   To be proud of our history, our culture and our music.
                   To love our language, but not go to any trouble to learn it or speak it among ourselves.
                   To be slightly embarrassed at the more maudlin of our ballads, but to like them all the
                    same.
                   To be glad your antecedents survived the Great Famine.
                   To love talking, telling stories and gossiping.
                   To want to know who everyone you meet is, who they're related to, and to poke your
                    nose into their business.
                   To love mixing and drinking, and mixing and mingling.
                   To have a small inferiority complex, because we're a small country.
                   To be proud of the achievements of our people in sports and arts and entertainment,
                    because we're such a small country.
                   To sometimes begrudge the success of our neighbours, because we think they're
                    "losing the run of themselves".
                   To smile and be happy, even in adverse circumstances.
                   To distrust and often mislead authority, because we still have issues with our
                     colonial past.
                   To stay in the pub until the publican finally throws us out.
                   To feel a little uneasy with wealth, because we're not used to it, and maybe it
                    won't last anyway.
                   To be very generous with charities and poor nations, abroad.
                   To think we are the smartest, wittiest, open-minded nation on earth, bar none.
                   To be surprised when visitors tell us how witty, smart and open-minded we are.
~John Collins*
Waterford, Ireland

                   
   You can find John@Twitter.walkcork. 
~Beannaichte'
30 November, 2015

Monday, November 23, 2015

"Brother Warrior"


Gentle Warrior
With your Heart like Gold and a Rainbow in
 your eyes
Brave Companion
Do you see a World shining in the Sky?
With your Body dancing like an Arrow
Spreading Joy beneath your feet
And your Hands that wave like tall Grass
In the Wind as you speak.
 

With the Shyness of a small Child
And the Wisdom of a Saint
I tell you, now
There is no Reason to be afraid.


Brother Warrior
There are None of us who Walk  this Path, alone
Spirit Healer is the only Life that we have ever 
known 
I see your Smile in the Sunlight
I hear your Song in the Rain
And I Hold you here, inside me
I Feel your Love and know your Pain.


At this Time, when the Earth is Waking
To the Dawn of another Age
I tell you, now
There is no Reason to be afraid.


We  are Crying for a Vision
That all Living things can Share
And those who Care 
~ Are with us,
 Everywhere.

~Kate Wolf
U.S.A.


~Beannaichte'
 23 November, 2015

@beannaichte.twitter.com 

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

"Bareback Pantoum"


                         One Night,          
      bareback and young, we rode through the woods
      and the woods were on Fire-
      two borrowed Horses, two local boys
      whose waist we clung to, my sister and I,
     
     
     and the woods were on Fire-
     the pounding of hooves and the smell of smoke
     and the sharp sweat of the boys
     whose waist we clung to, my sister and I
     as we rode toward Flame with the Sky in our
     mouths


     the pounding of hooves and the smell of smoke
     and the sharp sweat of the boys
     and the Heart saying: mine 
     as we rode toward Flame with the Sky in our
     mouths-
     the Trees turning gold, then crimson, white


     and the Heart saying: mine
     of the Wild, Bright world;
     the Trees turning gold, then crimson, white
     as they Burned in the Darkness, and we were the
     girls
    

     of the Wild, Bright world
     of the Woods near our house-we could turn, see
     the
     Lights
     and they Burned in the Darkness, and we were the
     girls
     so we rode just to ride
     
     

     through the Woods near our house-we could turn,
     see the Lights-
     and the Horses would carry us, carry us home
     so we rode just to ride
     my sister and I, just to be close to the Danger of
     Love


     and the Horses would carry us, carry us home
     -two borrowed horses, two local boys,
     my sister and I- just to be close to that Danger,
     Desire-
     one night, bareback and young, we rode through the
     woods. 



from  New Letters
  by Cecilia Woloch  


~Beannaichte'
27 May, 2013 


@beannaichte.twitter.com                      

"Postscript"



And some make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you'll park and capture it
More thoroughly.  You are neither here or there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.  
~Seamus  Heaney
Ireland
~Beannaichte'
 17 November, 2015
@beanaichte.twitter.com