expressed in the spirit of the Carmina Gaedelica

Birther
May we be midwives to your purpose
as we prepare the food stations,
break the ice on white filigree etched water troughs,
carry pails of water across hog wallows
criss-crossed with vegetation
and frost-hardened into mud like chocolate coconut ice.
Our sheep dogs supervise.

Saviour
May we work for you, as co-redeemers, wresting happiness out of pain
so that we may all have a chance to live and hope again.
May our pigs snuffle endearments into the warm straw
as they lie top to tail, nose upturned at their arc door,
may our hens enjoy clearing the polytunnel of greens
and ‘passing the harp’ noisily through long winter sleeps,
may our sheep enjoy hay as the wind blows hard,
their three generations of families safe on Noah’s Arcs.

Spirit
You have blown us here, across the Border
may we breathe your creative energy   
like a prayer wheel, scattering a gratuitous generosity of blessings,
warming all sentient beings across these fields, this community, this land.

This poem was first published in the anthology Borderlands: an Anthology, 2022 (Borders Writing Forum).