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Thoughts on St. Patrick’s Day
Thoughts on St. Patrick’s Day
March 17, 2000
I lift my head and gaze back on this day
Through mists of time beyond the ken of most
To capture Kith and Kin forgotten
And savor Irish heritage again
The shadow clears – real but mythical
St. Patrick arises -- he brings a faith
Embraced by most heartily -- druids remain
A man identified with Eire complete
Never mind the nonsense about the snakes
He planted fortresses of learning
The western world owes a debt to him
For antiquities that birthed renewal
A lonely Isle but lovely swathed in green
Peopled by Iberian and Celt
Raided by Viking seemingly at will
Until the Danes reigned hard and cold in Dublin
Mists roll on as regional kings arise
One bent on destroying the other
‘Til there came one with eyes to see
And strong right arm to make it be
Brian Boru, Ard Ri, High King
He fought Dane and Celt alike to bring
A unity to Ireland if had but held
A different tale would be told, perhaps
Alas, history declares he failed, not he
But those who followed who loved old ways
And factioned Ireland, continued to bleed
Too weak to win, too strong in mind to cease
Continued war waged within so strong
Those outside, came who needed little strength
To domineer this war torn anemic people
Britain established their fiefdom to the north
At last, an enemy to unite
A people, rife with hate to spare
War undeclared behind the scenes has reigned
From then to now, lulls few and sparse
A famine decimated and sent her sons
Over an ocean where they were received
With scorn, indentured servants who drank
Hard and fought hard, they dug the Erie canal
Signs up, to make it clear, “No Irish Here”
Unable to identify by skin
The brogue became the bane of Mics
Scorned by those who forgot their own sails
Time heals some wounds, and Irish hold heads high
In America where her sons and daughters
Have made good their promise and risen
With pride to claim a heritage
But back home ... Back home the war betides
With lulls and bursts of hate anew
Brit and Mic continue all they’ve ever known
The fight unceasing in the blood
The blood still shed, on Ireland’s green hills
© 2000 Bart Breen
