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Jun 10
living from the land
on a prayer

winter so dark and wet
seals canter the mountainous waters
sheep cowering before the wind
ships torn apart by jagged stone

eyes peering through the salt stained windows
whilst oats are being ground
bubbling gruel over the fire
oily wool being teased
thick yarn being worked

a bedevilled figure appears on a doorstep
a wreck survivor shivers in soaked skin
they bring him in before a fire
tweeds for the sea angel
exhaustion and gruel draw him to sleep
he will live and reap

the months pass by
sustained by a meagre thrift
Gaelic songs of old
reviving those long gone
stories so bold
simple games to hold

hammer out the rock
lower a body
reanoint and cover with honed rock
one more enters the island of Hirta
lifted out of the hole by an ancestor and one not surviving a wreck
transcend theΒ Β drift wood hall
eternal summer celebrations for all
dancing and talking in a common spiel
watching over their offspring of Kilda zeal

storms are abating and spring thrusts in
wavering candles lights the verse
crinkled hands are opened in praise
closed eyes against the cold
warms hearts now engaged
thanks, and a prayer
are given to Hirta spirts and creators alike
St Kilda an isolated island where a singular culture, language, a fight for survival and a place where ships were often wrecked depended on a strong faith. Also known as Hirta which here represents an ancestral plane.
kevin wright
Written by
kevin wright  uk
       Gideon, Crow and Eloisa
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