A Part Irish Blessing
If I were full Irish, I could say to you,
May your road be blessed
and the container of these words would automatically hold
every highway, every turn, every tree on the side, every leaf on the tree.
It would cover not only pavement and gravel, but every
flight path, rail bed, waterway,
every metaphorical trail you might conceive of or encounter.
It would encompass all weather, all sunlight, every moonrise.
It would illuminate your conversations, your daydreams, your calculations,
and most certainly your love.
But as I am only part Irish, I must conjure explicitly,
not so that you would know all this,
but so that my other parts might learn.