Return
by David Whyte

The day started with a flurry of gulls
and a single cry, as if I had spoken
and out of the deep cave where my tongue lies
birds were scattering in an open sky.

I went to the rail and watched them rise
over the grey clouds as if the sky were a sea
and the sea was cold now, full of shapes
and the horse-tails of winter.

And I spoke, involuntary
out of a delighted mouth
the old, strange word

Ireland; joy when uttered, grief when heard.

***
Painting by Anna Elizabeth Blunden, 1854.
Purportedly, the image was inspired by the poem, “Song of the Shirt” by Hood.