Dear Ireland,

Over the rock-laden hills,
through the scrubby grass
and across the wild seas
you called my name,
you called to me alone.
You offered up your solace and solitude
as a refuge for reflection and healing,
holding up a mirror to my soul
And asking, who are you?
And I did not know.

But each day as I climbed
to the peak of Dun Aonghasa
gazing out over the hillsides,
listening to the cows,
those cows who are not afraid of heights
and to the waves crashing upon the cliffs,
those waves whose persistence
have shaped a landscape.
It is here where shattered little pieces of my heart
found their way home.

I too had been out with lanterns
looking for myself.

Here on Inis Mor’s hillsides,
across rocky ridges
and over sparkling seas
I lay still,
the haunting emptiness inside of me opening up,
inviting me to recognize and honor the gifts within me.

It was time to lose the lanterns
in order for my own light to shine,
to see myself through a new lens
and to rediscover my place in this world.

Dear Ireland,
I came to you with two faces,
the one I showed the world. . .
and the one in the mirror.
I have heard your whispers.
I close my eyes and finally hear the voice,
the one that has been calling me home.