"The Birthright"

We were born

In country places,

Far from cities

And shifting faces.

We have a Birthright

No man can sell,

And a secret Joy

No man can tell.

For We are Kindred

To Lordly things,
The wild duck's flight
And the white owl wings.
To pike and salmon,
To bull and horse,
The curlew's cry
And the smell of gorse.

Pride of trees
Swiftness of streams,
Magic of frost
Have shaped our Dreams:
No baser Vision
Their Spirit fills,
Who Walk by Right
On the naked Hills.

~Eiluned Lewis

(1900-1979) 
Wales

~Beanniachte'
 19 July, 2016

@beannaichte.twitter.com 

" Things Worth Praising "

Rain.  Soft rain.  Hard pelting rain.  Sleet and snow.

Clouds: white, grey, dark.  A spring breeze.

The predictability of stars and moon and sun.

Green small hills.  Craggy slopes. Granite cliffs.

Topsoil deep and rich.  The melody of rivers.

The power of tides.  The cycle of change.

Industry of bee and worm.  Sweet fruit that follows.

Microbes that make cheese.  Ones that cure us.

Profound cooperation that begets lichen.

Birdsong carried on wind.  The shadow of a horse

against a limestone wall.  A dog's warmth.

Blood.  Flesh.  Bones.  Hearts.  Breath.

A friend's hand, reaching out for help or tea.

A sigh, a song, an honest smile, a body dancing.

Everything that connects and is connected. 

 Everything.

~ Patricia Monaghan 

U.S.A./Ireland

~Beannaichte'

26 June, 2014

@beannaichte.twitter.com