Ag cuardú na bealaí

[This is a poem I wrote in Irish reflecting on where I am now–that is, trying to find my way in the world, and moving on from what might have been with someone who didn’t love me back.]

Ar strae liom féin ar chosán casta
gan d’fhuaim ach an ghaoth,
an rothar, is m’anáil féin,
i measc na garraithe ag dul
i nglac an dúlra, iad gléasta
i nglas neantóg is feochadán fiáin,
is ann a fhaighim suáilceas suaimhneach.

Dá bhfanfainn anseo, anois nó go deo,
an dtiocfá chugam trasna na tonnta?
nach olc a stór a d’imigh tú,
is mé fágtha gan slí, gan treoir, gan chomhar.

Ach maithim don fharraige teacht eadrainn,
mar táim tógtha lena damhsa,
máinneáil mealltach na maoimeanna
a mheileann aolchloch dhaingean na haillte.

Is tá a fhios agam go maith nach dtiocfá go brách–
is liom féin a chuardóidh mé an bhealach.

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