Quiet Land

Torn from the tapestry of celtic spirituality,
unraveled humanity wandered the land.
Nestling by mountains and lakes,
lush green homeland shelters us no more.
Anguish in the silence of stone built Churches,
The silent weeping in the wind stirs the grass.
The cry of the curlew haunting the deep silence.
The quiet growth of greenery muted now, makes no cry,
Since the womb of the earth yields,
and yields no more.


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