Aisling for the Land

My love — this land was made for you — and me
for our family — trees and our roots
all its seasons turn — leaves turn, turn
through strong winds — blowing lonely
feelings small — I will lay me down,
with toes worn numb — down by the sea,
hug them, squeeze them – call their names
When the sun rises tomorrow — see the rain
And get me goodnight, goodnight — in your dreams.

∞

Submitted as part of “National/Global Poetry Writing Month” (#NaPoWriMo #GloPoWriMo).

Today’s prompt: Day Twenty-Five: “Today’s (optional) prompt is based on the aisling, a poetic form that developed in Ireland. An aisling recounts a dream or vision featuring a woman who represents the land or country on/in which the poet lives, and who speaks to the poet about it. Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that recounts a dream or vision, and in which a woman appears who represents or reflects the area in which you live. Perhaps she will be the Madonna of the Traffic Lights, or the Mysterious Spirit of Bus Stops. Or maybe you will be addressed by the Lost Lady of the Stony Coves. Whatever form your dream-visitor takes, happy writing!”