The Gael  

 
Thanks to Annie Rutherford of Far Off Places magazine for using this poem in their first issue.
                 
                             
I am a Selchie walking from the sea                        
Dry land in sight, but it doesn’t much appeal to me            
Taking off my Selchie skin,                              
Talking in a stranger’s tongue,                        
Trying to be “at home”,                              
In someone else’s world                              

I curse the moon, as it cursed me                              
I need the sea - cold, and deep, and salty-
To cover me                                          

If I ever find my skin again…
Under the broken clouds,
I will lie upon the hard, sharp rocks,
Then dive into the
Crashing waves,
And be alive again

To be amongst my own kind,
In a world I know,
And love