Friday, March 17, 2023

On St. Patrick’s Day

 I don’t recall if I’ve mentioned that I am now officially studying Druidry, but this St. Patrick's Day seems a good time to confirm that it's so. I’m looking for a non-exploitive relationship with Earth and want to avoid cultural appropriation concerns that could emerge from trying to follow Native American spiritual paths. I’m “of Irish extraction,” as the saying goes, so Druidry seems to offer a viable option. We’ll see how it goes.

Irish soda bread
Irish soda bread
Photo by J. Harrington

About a week ago, in anticipation, I baked a loaf of Irish soda bread (from a mix). The two potted oxalis (shamrocks) are still alive on a shelf in the sun. Nevertheless, we can’t properly celebrate this day without sharing an Irish Blessing, so here’s one I’m fond of:

May love and laughter light your days,

and warm your heart and home.

May good and faithful friends be yours,

wherever you may roam.

May peace and plenty bless your world

with joy that long endures.

May all life's passing seasons

bring the best to you and yours!


Now, let's close for today with a Nobel Laureate Irish poet I'm also fond of, and a poem as fitting for our times as Yeat’s Second Coming, but a little more upbeat:


Anything Can Happen

 - 1939-2013


Anything can happen. You know how Jupiter
Will mostly wait for clouds to gather head
Before he hurls the lightning? Well, just now
He galloped his thunder cart and his horses

Across a clear blue sky. It shook the earth
And the clogged underearth, the River Styx,
The winding streams, the Atlantic shore itself.
Anything can happen, the tallest towers

Be overturned, those in high places daunted,
Those overlooked regarded. Stropped-beak Fortune
Swoops, making the air gasp, tearing the crest off one,
Setting it down bleeding on the next.

Ground gives. The heaven’s weight
Lifts up off Atlas like a kettle-lid.
Capstones shift, nothing resettles right.
Telluric ash and fire-spores boil away.



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