We are the Galgael

We are the GalGael
We make swords from soup
So we can stab and slash
The loneliness of hunger
Oor beautifully decorated targe
Is massif and strong
It protects us from divisive dogma doctrine

Sacred sporrans hingin’ fae belts
Pour sumptuous nutrients
Intae the mooths of the anger avoiders
O the tartan is dazzling
Ancient modern threads are connected
Colours of infinity
Hues of warmth and nurture

Long sharp shiltram spears
Defend us from the selfish and harmfull
We watch wan anithers backs
Hame made stiff woolly bonnets
Give eyes shade
To the dazzling glare of consumerism
Also keepin’ the heid warm
In contemplative concentration

Tackity boot wellie coorans
Assemble gracefully in battle formation
Remembering relatives poetic murmurs
Breengin’ forward with pride conviction
Nae need tae chib

Legs that hing doon fae kilts
Will run tae all corners of oor earth
To celebrate
The precious honesty of native
Rich traditional battle tunes belt oot
As we position to dance
Ancient Elvis, modern pictish and gallus Gaelic
Drive us onward

Oor hearts beat tae the pulse
Of the bees wing….the way
Oor veins gush with the rivers and burns of Scotland
The rocks are oor relatives
Their soft rhythmic roar
Constant
We move along the spiral
To honour the Sun
Each movement a gift
We are the Galgael
We are the Soup Makers

Alan T.