Connections
By Maria Foley

I stand among the weather beaten headstones
of the Irish cemetery
On the barren hills of Tilting
nestled by the sea.
I picture all the people as they crossed
that treacherous sea
Hoping for a better life and a place
where they could be free.
They brought so very little but their faith
in God above
And through hard toil and labor
carved out this place I love.


I think of all the stories that have been
told to me
Of the hardships and the dangers of
the ocean fishery.
So many men have lost their lives
and women left alone
But still we are so very proud to call this
place our home.


This ocean that connects us to Ireland from
where we came
Has been raped of all its bounty and our lives
will never be the same.
The spirits whisper to me the wheels of
life have turned
For hope and new direction turn to the land
for which we’ve yearned.
The sinking sun is being engulfed by
the oceans mighty waves
But my mind it is at peace, as a soft wind
gently stirs the flowers on the graves.

                                            Last updated: September 9, 2008