fuileachadh / bleeding

Standard

I sat, still. gut wrenched, holding.

Nib to parchment scraping. cutting.

tracing veins that would no longer quicken.

until I vomited you. out. bleeding the past. the way out through the buried box.

contaminating the air. singing

as a newborn.echoing through the darkness.

afterwards. raw. eyes wide. finally awake.

flooding, senses heightened.

I knew. I was alive.

©kbain18.

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drioftadh / drifting

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if I could be anywhere

I’d be bare, foot

sinking in soft selkie sand. cool surround

calm mingling. lying shore still on childhood down.

north sea roaring rolling over — me

gazing at night sky overhead. a star

with no name yet — shooting across. lighting the way,

offering hope. winking. me

assimilated in breeze, contemplating drifting,

driftwood underfoot.

gull soaring through ages, times past horizons.

the rise & fall of fishing boats,

on silver seas.

the vastness

of our — lost connections.

©kbain2018.

Loidhneachan / Lines

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Lines drawn, connecting
landscape to a people.
lines connecting people to themselves.
linear visible imprints, hard, distinct
Crafted on aged stone.
granite hewed from a Living past,
from known surroundings.
touched & shaped by cultured hands,
Inclusive of a language & of a people.
a vibrant landscape,
known by time past,
and the blowing singing ga[e]l[e]
unknown to us now,
a forgotten song.
the people of our land
immortal seeds,
Planted firmly in fertile ground.

 

©Karen Bain 2016.All Rights Reserved