All Those Irish Blessings

learning to walk we wore the clouds for shoes

and longed for patent leather in the colour pink

I think so, rarely blue

imitating the winged Mercury on dimes or spending it suddenly

on ice cream.

but that was in dreams or in a distant time and we weren't

walking then,

but floating

as if in the paintings of Chagall and in stained glass colours or

finger painting the lawns with our shadows

I remember that

as we flew over, to remember our house.

with Peter Pan.

and falling down in flowers

and on the pavements

bruises blossomed like a dark rose

I know it was lovely sinking in snows

and especially under Spring moonlight to go

even alone and breathing in the gardenias

and clouds came

and the moon cried in lemon and out of sorts

and said come back! my child my child when the clouds covered

its face in fleece

as though ti would miss us in our backyard.

walking grew hard. walking away.

I didnt know where to go

so my feet stopped working for a little while.

my legs like stone.

they wanted really, never

to leave home whatever home has become now.

and then, to be rooted like trees.

i know I will walk again

for Jesus walked on seas and he's my friend

and I only have to walk a little ways farther on earth.

there will be a different way of walking

when I'm older now I'm older

rechristened in the summer grass

finally the road rising up to meet me

as was vowed to us in all those Irish Blessings

from the storied Past.

mary angela douglas 9 July 2020