a slave returned
freely across
the many bridges burned
restored
to designs far more divine,
while love as green
as well-rained ground
under saintly foot
walks innocent of destination
for mere joy
of following ahead
of the ever-echoing call.
Patrick-- displaced person
par excellence,
at home in any field
with some three-part
shade of shamrock—
his shield is his sword
and speech his Lord:
embodied freedom.
The land of his captivity
is promised and emerald
and alive in a sea of ancient tides
that rise and rise
and fall
like all emancipations
faithfully with eyes fast
and far on horizons
out of reach of conquest.
Yet never does he rest
from his endless work always
and everywhere to bless.