We are home again
In a dream of anticipation they left the nightmare of a ruined economy.
Looking back more than ahead, they made their way to Liverpool and an ocean.
Ships, loaded with coal miners and the desperate, too afraid to be afraid,
they faced greater unknowns than ever underground.
………………..
The agony of that journey o’er weeks and weeks did not fade
through thousands of miles travelled over land and water.
They had left behind family and fellowship, culture and history.
Their wives, mates and friends struggled on. With little or nothing.
………………..
In this land that seemed just carved out of Mother Earth,
they found no comfort. There were no songs. And no solace.
Clutched letters were read, again and again.
But they were nurtured. Work gave them worth. And strength.
……………….
A day came when they were able to bring their families over.
The veil of tears on leaving, was mere mist to the flood at reunion.
Then came new friends. What was strange became a new way of life.
Yet in old suits and new suits, there still ran threads of Wales.
……………..
In time, they returned to see what they had left. But it was not to be found.
From tattered and battered lands had emerged a land they did not know.
They found green valleys where there had been endless wasteland.
There was, again, music in the hills. Wales could be home to them again.
………………
[This was my entry in the 2020 North American Festival of Wales poetry competition.]
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