Callum Mor's song continued

It was never too late for him.

      His knowing crept forth from him

      To shock his people into new awareness 

And they were good people,

A goodness bred of generations

      of adversity and survival.

      that Callum Mor fashioned into creativity,

      by quiet gentle example. 

That could not be denied.

The raw primacy of sea, rock and gale 

let them turn only a little away,

allow them just a lesion

      on that creative body of survival

      that stretched back to

      the time before antiquity.

They came in one's and two's

To that place where Callum Mor 

      and the young ones

      had started their work.

They looked and measured many things 

      in their minds and hearts 

      leaving, only to return in one's and two's.

It was the postman that trimmed the founds

carrying cement on his back 

      from the roadside

      where his bicycle

      lay with a wheel spinning in the wind.

A shipwright from the sea laboured 

his leave to putting 

      a roof to the place.

Soon

Men from all parts

of the island

found their way to that place 

where men worked in

one's and two's.

They argued

about the size of windows

wrangled about the slope

      of the guttering

      and finally could laugh

when the butcher, barman and pier master 

came with separate

      carefully carpentered doors 

      all for the one doorway.

With the smiles that spread

      to a chuckle and swelled

      to a roar of laughter

The pain from deep within

      the breasts of island men eased

and they became part of it all. 
 

They knew the deep lasting joy

      of being part of a thread of life 

      that ran back to that time

Before Antiquity.

They heard and felt

Callum Mor's song

And rejoiced in their hearts.