I have a tattoo on my heart.
It is a picture of a windswept island.
Its rugged coast worn from the relentless power of the Atlantic waves.
Its mountains treeless and exposed.
Its landscape colored in a million shades of green.
I have a tattoo on my heart.
I used to think it would fade with time, like a henna tattoo.
I would paint new pictures over the old, but the space was taken.
The new pictures faded, the old one never did.
I have a tattoo on my heart.
I feel it on my skin when cold, drizzly, and blustery morning air hits my face.
I hear it in the pitter-patter of raindrops on a metal roof.
I see it as I drive by a rocky field of cattle.
I smell and taste it in a cup of morning tea.
I have a tattoo on my heart.
It used to be hidden under a bucket list of hopes and dreams.
Having a family, living in America, fixing up an old house, visiting New Zealand.
As the list gets shorter and the coast clears, only one unwavering image remains,
Tattooed on my heart.
Images:
1. Cliffs of Moher, Co. Clare - June 3rd, 2009
2. Co. Wicklow Coast - October 30th, 2007
3. Hiking in Co. Mayo - May 4th, 2008
4. Field of cattle, Weathersfield, VT - September 2nd, 2020
5. Inisheer, Co. Galway - June 6th, 2008