Longing for land

Walking the hills of Ireland
today
that dull, achey longing
at long last
dulled—

“I am here!”

—

I was there,
and the part
of me still there
now implores:

“Your longing for that land?
“Bring it to this land,
“Wherever you are.
“Yell it as high as it cries,
“Whisper it when you can’t
any longer.”

And know the birds
and the moss
and the water…
And that is enough.

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