Aran Woman

a poem for all the women

To the women
who carry the stones--
I sea you.
In this water,
on this bank of pebbled sand.
In the bundles of kelp,
the sounds of jumping goats.

I sea you
as the sky fades and
brilliance consumes,
in these ancient tombs,
holding names
we never knew.

I sea you
in worn hands
and Gaelic tunes,
in power revered 
of the storm ruins--
in the fairy doors.

I sea you
in the temples--
on the alters
bare and right
where we've always been;
supposed to of been--
defiant again. 

I sea you