Dear saint of our isle
….. What a wondrous song.
I never really heard the words before
But now they shout from the mountain tops
And deepest canyons of my soul.
It is whence I came,
The Celtic root,
Where I return on my knees to lough Derg each year
In an attempt to understand.
Why someone said they saw St Patrick
Walking across a parking lot
On a Saturday afternoon
At a church in New Hampshire mountains.
That was me
Searching for an identity
Steeped in roots of religious change
Fifteen centuries ago
And ready for the same today.
For then they mistook God for the sun and the land
When now we deny his existence
And live in a void of emptiness
Filled with noise and self-love.
For Love is all around
waiting to be seen.