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Windrush Writers

Ifor ap Glyn pleadged to support this initiative: 

Presentation by Cwmni Da      Click here:   https://vimeo.com/442717307/Blessed

Subtitles will be added soon.


Windrush Day, 22.6.20

(for Paulette Wilson, Anthony Bryan

 - and Amelia Gentleman)

Blessèd am I, avoiding the plague,

in my imagined bondage;

treading ten thousand steps 

on the outskirts of my town.


And I walk the old paths 

with new eyes,

till I reclaim a seasonal tongue

that modulates between the slow, slow speech 

of the far-off mountains, 

and the abrupt babble of nearby hedgerows.


Blessèd am I,

with only the drumkit of a dove’s wings

to disturb my peace. That's my privilege...

which could revert in an eye-blink.


​Because I was neither born 

​nor raised here

​(though this is where I live

​with my alleged children);


​I've no proof that I'm Welsh;

​that this is where I’ve lived

​for each of the last forty years. 



no-one provokes me

with vile words like these...

So, I am blessed.

And I give thanks...


​...that I will not be denied

​hospital treatment,

​though I’ve paid my stamp 

​(I could’ve sworn)

​since before those who spurn my rights 

​were born.


I give thanks


​that I won’t be dismissed from my job,

​that I won’t be turned out of my house;

​that I won’t be exiled to a city 

​that doesn’t remember me;

​that I won’t be jailed

​at the edge of an airfield


by those who’d make my world a lie.



​ but...    


blessèd shall we be,

when we cannot pass by on the other side;

when there’s a new turning 

in the heart of each town,

and we walk the old paths with new eyes,

stepping out, all together,

through the mud of winter,


till we walk new summers  into our speech,

till we rise up better,

till we can live in colour, 

​and not just see in black and white.




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