The Gifts

My father gave to me
A saddle of tooled leather
A restless horse, a well-honed blade
Passed down by his father
He asked me if I knew the way
I answered, «I will find mine»
«Just come back,» was all he’d say
So long ago, so far away
My mother gave to me
A kiss, her silent blessing
I searched her face to know her thoughts
But I was left to guessing
She held out the cloak of wool
That I had seen her weaving
She smiled as I took the gift
But I could feel her grieving
I rode the steed from the glen
To the ridge about Lock Kerran
Where my love waited, open arms
For the parting we had planned on
And the flower that she gave to me
Had soft, deep crimson petals
I climbed back on my mount to leave
So tall there in the saddle
I stand here on this distant shore
The bootprints just my own
And gaze across the wind-swept sea
For word has come from home
My father dead, my mother ill
My lover well and married
I have a horse, a sword, a cloak
And regrets I’ll always carry