Hail glorious St. Patrick

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.

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