Sunday 29 March 2020

Invocation to Iona




Dear Reader,

The excitement this week was photographing this woodpecker who came to feed on our seed tray for at least ten minutes.  My adult children always say I exaggerate but, on my word, it was ten minutes that he was there.  The bird on the feeder above is a goldfinch, sometimes there are five at a time eating and pecking away.

This is the third week of isolation, and how are you all doing?  In the first week we did go to the Co-op and to a local shop for food and milk but decided it was too risky.  So now we rely on our wonderful neighbours who have started a messenger help round for local neighbours. Lots of them very kindly fetch things for us so we see and speak to no one.  In particular I would like to thank Nikki and Pete Moran who have organized this, and who bring us milk three times a week.  They are the neighbours everyone would like to have.

On the advice of The Telegraph newspaper I was reminded, in a piece on things to watch, of Kenneth Clark's series called  'Civilization".  We started watching it last night and it is indeed wonderous.  Marvelous pictures of ancient buildings and of a small island in the north of Scotland where the first Christians built stone houses.  These they lived in to get away from the Barbarian hordes and other marauding tribes. There are lots of discs so we are in for a fascinating sofa travel to all parts of the world.  I thoroughly recommend it, do get it if this sort of thing appeals to you.

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Invocation to Iona

"Iona, sacred island, mother,
I honour you,
who cradle the
bones of Scottish Kings,
who birthed coloured gemstones
to enchant bleached beaches,
who shelter puffins on your rocks.

I wrap myself in your history,
and knot the garments with
machair rope-grass.
In the Port of Coracle
your southern bay,
I hear the wind-blown cormorant's cry,
and draw a breath.
I see Columba's footsteps
in the sand, and weep.
Tears overflow,
I am spirit-engulfed.

I ask you, Iona,
"is this then, or now,
what is, or what has been?
Does the rolling salt sea-mist
cover the uncounted time between?"

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With very good wishes, Patricia

2 comments:

  1. It is always difficult to find words to describe or praise poetry because the words of the poem inevitably dwarf any commentary. So I will just say this poem speaks to me, transports me. Now more than ever we need poetry to inspire us and soothe a path through difficult times. Much love, Chris

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  2. Can only re-iterate the thoughts in the previous comment. You know how much I admire your poetry and this poem in particular. Mx

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