Celtic cross in the wind
- (📝Marcella Boccia) -
A Celtic cross stands
jagged and worn
kissing the wind
where the ocean is torn
The waves crash below
a feral hymn
a dirge for the lost
for the shadows within
Its stone is rough
carved by the years
etched with whispers
soaked in tears
A relic of gods
of battles and scars
of moons that watched
beneath distant stars
The wind screams through it
raw and alive
like voices of ghosts
who refused to survive
Their stories are stitched
in the salt-stained air
rebels and lovers
the broken who dared
I see you there
in its shadowed gaze
a warrior’s heart
set ablaze
You kiss the storm
with a quiet defiance
a soft rebellion
a fierce reliance
The cross bows not
though time may demand
it grips the earth
with a weathered hand
Like you
it stands
where others would fall
a monument to freedom
to answering the call
And as the wind howls
I watch it bend
a fleeting gesture
a lover
a friend
The ocean roars
the cross stays true
a symbol of strength
like the soul in you