Belonging

Belonging

From the dust of the Island soil, I came:
Here my roots, my beginnings, my name;
Once I tried to settle in a foreign land,
But dying through lack of sea and sand,
I returned to once more regain my strength,
In my Island home, where its short length,
Shores bounded by the restless sea
Enfold me, make me and create me;
My boundaries this Island set in place,
And through it I see myself face to face;
In ancient times, at La Cotte, by the fire,
Not then settled, but later returned, retire,
And build the great monuments of stone,
Honour the ancestors, lay shards of bone;
Come farm the lands, and tame the soil,
Creating a home through hard won toil;
With the shaman, and the sacred song,
Enfold me, make me, here I belong;
And came the Christians from overseas:
They settled here, prayed on their knees;
Thin places discerned at the end of space,
Enfold me, make me, with their grace;
Here I belong, and here I find my being:
With wave and rock, listening, seeing