St. Brigid

In honor of Brigid, I give you



Poem and photograph from “Acadia:
Visions and Verse” by Jack Perkins

The fog has come again to help us see.
Its visits seem to represent
The times we’ve grown too confident
That we are in control, and ought to be.

The fog, rebutting, sets about to lift
Bald Porcupine from out of the sea,
From where we thought it would always be,
Casting both the island and us adrift.

No day is this to hoist the schooner sails.
For how can helmsman navigate,
Avert the shoal, traverse the strait,
When what he counts upon-his vision-fails?

It’s humbling—as I think it’s meant to be.
When so much of our world’s concealed,
There’s something of ourselves revealed.
We need the fog to come to help us see


One thought on “St. Brigid

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