My paternal grandparents were Irish born, having come to the United States around 1900. My grandmother, Catherine, was from a poor farm in Galway, and my grandfather, John, a Catholic from Belfast. Not easy. John shod horses in Manhattan and Catherine was a maid to a wealthy family on Park Avenue. She lived with us for some time when we were kids. That makes me second generation Irish. I can feel it.
The low temperatures here are in the 50's now and the parsley, lettuce and spinach seeds have sprouted. Spring is finally winning over winter. And from that place, I'm sending my own version of a Gaelic Blessing to you - from my garden to yours. Maybe you have a garden out back. Or maybe you admire a neighbor's garden. Or maybe your garden is your indoor potted African Violets by the window. Maybe your garden is one of those huge cement pots filled with spring flowers you pass on a Manhattan Avenue on the way to work. Doesn't matter. I'm sending the spring blessings to you and your family - your spouses, your children and grandchildren, your siblings - mindful that some of them may be having a hard time of it.
Deep peace of the forest's layered greening to you.
Deep peace of the birds returning to you;
their nesting,
their surround-sound song.
Deep peace of the fawn's birth to you.
Deep peace of the seeds sprouting to you;
the wisteria bud-swell,
the lilac scenting.
Deep peace of the days lengthening to you;
its warming,
its brightening.
Deep peace of the morning fog to you;
its dew and mist.
its dew and mist.
Deep peace of the frog's pond-life to you.
Deep peace of the bee's foraging to you.
Deep peace of the soil's softening to you.
Deep peace of Mary's faith-smile to you.
Deep peace of Christ's trillium-red wounds to you.
