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Crowleigh

Ariel 1967 (California)

Ode


Perhaps we lack our purpose
Because we have moved too far away
From our natural rhythms, we center

Our time around sitting
In an unnatural space
40 hours a week, telling ourselves

That a job made up is living
While our brains are hardwired
For hunting and gathering, for

Raising the young that now we leave
With others, Surprised at how we are
Disconnected from our own lives.

I am sure our Eire would wonder
If her children have become pixie-led
by the beauratic English.

We should have stayed
with the Tuatha de Danann, climbed and hid
In the mists of Corrán Tuathail

Nor should our children
Have sailed away, seeking other lands,
Seldom to return.

Eiru calls back to us at Galway
And Mayo, her face flashing then disappearing
Against the florescent haze.

About this poem

Won prize at 2010 Ireland Poetry Festival. Published on Literary Orphans.

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Written on March 19, 2009

Submitted by Ariel on September 20, 2021

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Ariel

Ariel is a full-time Pacific Northwest poet, often participating at Oregon Open Mics events. She has been published in Gold Man Review, AIM, The Widow’s Handbook, and most recently in Terra Incognita, On The Platform Waiting and Free From Monsters. Ariel often collaborates in many Willamette Valley poetry/art projects and is a member of Oregon Poetry Association, Mid-Valley Poets Association, Willamette Writers and Poet. Her website is poetariel.net. more…

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