I sat against the graveyard wall <br />looking out across the Mayo peatlands <br />reaching out to touch your souls <br />and the names upon the crosses <br />became stepping stones between <br />the greyness of our orb spun turnings <br />there in one ten graved row <br />the stones aged before my eyes <br />polished black and brightly gold <br />to granite wind worn grey and Lichen green. <br />Then the winds around Kilturra sang <br />and my soul reached out, <br />In one heartbeat those who had bought and <br />brought my life to this hillside <br />pulled me to the dancing circle <br />of all who's blood I held in trust. <br />This was the ground which held <br />the final paths of nine generations <br />I am ten, and here in this watery dawn <br />my heart sings the memory songs <br />of countless voices and my soul <br />dances the dance of a hundred souls <br />then, all to soon, Kilturra’s wind died <br />the heartbeat, once more became my own. <br />As I closed the gate upon the stones <br />the Bittern's called their joy upon this day <br />my soul gives thanks to earth and sky <br />for all the pathways given to my life <br />and at my back, <br />Kilturra’s wind sings me home once more<br /><br />Bill Mitton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-winds-around-kilturra/
