Childhood Pilgrimage. Poem by Michael Cochrane

We wake up on Saturday morning ready to go to the woods, and play at the waterfront of the river cart, we saw our youth in the reflection of the water.
We looked at the fledged little birds sitting with beaks wide open.
Such beautiful creatures of nature.
We climb up into the canopy of oak trees with great agility and look out on the enchanted forest.
Totally immersed in our world of the jungle and imagined ourselves like Tarzan.
This was our weekend pilgrimage which fed our natural life in so many ways.
We returned before dark and our stomachs told us that Mother's dinner would be waiting us, just as we knew the sun would set. It was something indelible in our minds.
There she was sitting peeling potatoes into a basin saying go wash your face and hands Pat and Mick clean your knees!
Such memories are always in my heart.
A mother's love is a blessing forever.
Michael Cochrane ©️ 2026