Orla Tinsley: I plant my feet in memory now, in rooted gratitude

What’s gone, what’s next, within is now all we can live for

I’m writing from the Curragh plains in depth of breath. Photograph: Mehmet Hilmi Barcin
I’m writing from the Curragh plains in depth of breath. Photograph: Mehmet Hilmi Barcin

Gratitude for the moon above us in the sky
Gratitude for the sky above us on the Earth
Gratitude for the Earth below our bottom soles
Gratitude for our souls inside that carry heavy loads

Thank you to the robin melting hearts when taking flight
Thank you for the singing through the starry winter night
Lit with those we lost and all the light of life to come,
Our new year dawns within ourselves, a chance of righting every wrong.

Within us all a kernel of a certain slant of light,
Within us all the depths to walk the darkest, blackest night,
History is a nightmare from which I’m trying to escape
And yet as organs fail again, I must be wide awake.

I’m writing from the Curragh plains in depth of breath, I’m sure
I’m walking with my family now on the green that we adore
To all perceived predestined times and hope for things with ease
I work to be and not be a soul whistling on the breeze.

When light poured into Newgrange six Winter Solstices’ ago
I moved from almost death to life and deep within the flow
I balanced all because of love and held all to mind with grace
My body then returned to life, a Lazarus about face.

I plant my feet in memory now, in rooted gratitude.
My donor who gave the breath of life – my deepest love to you.
And all that is and all that was will be forevermore.
What’s gone, what’s next, within is now all we can live for.