Rebels

Who are you

child of mine

if we put

your life

on the line?

Lost and rootless 

cut off from 

the ancient tree

wearing other

faces and

no longer

hearing the 

song of family.  

What homeland

shall you find

as you tramp

stranger roads,

unmapped

by ethnicity?

Maybe if we

look back

in time

we can find

your identity. 

One ancestor

died at

the Somme

fighting for

King and country. 

Another bled

and five lay dead

at home

savaged by the

black and tan

who looked

at youth and

saw rebellion.

Parents crossed

the great divide

abandoned sin

and religion

in an effort

to be free. 

Kindred souls

ignored the rest

and urged you

to do your best. 

Some thrive

some survive

stumbling under

heavy loads,

heroes and rebels

both in the code

following their

own stars and

not the crowd. 

Now you in turn

place your bets

against a fate

unkind or benign

but never quite forget

where you came from.  

Feel the blood run

and the spirit rise:

do you feel Irish yet?