Lugh replies:

Yes, Mother, I remember-
you taught me to find stillness, rest my hand
on the earth and let my heart sink
into the singing
of root and soil and the tiny lives that join them.
The earth sees all, our daily witness.
(It was your lesson named
my father’s slayers and brought
their justice.)
I could bring you shade, Mother, but
my racing west wind heavy with clouds,
rain to feed the corn, and lightning
to fecundate the soil is not the sighing
of a forest, deep with knowledge.
My healing skill cannot ease you, Mother,
my spear, faultless in battle, fails
against your longing.
I cannot find the strain of joy
and you are full to death with sorrow,
so let me play you sleep and rest
and an end to weariness
on these golden strings.


3 comments on “Lugh replies:

  1. beanalreasa says:

    Lovely poem.
    Thank you for sharing ❤

  2. wow, really beautiful, felt this one deeply!

  3. Grace says:

    Thank you for reading and your kind comments!

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