Kevin McManus is a poet and writer from County Leitrim in Ireland. In 2021, he published a poetry collection entitled “The Hawthorn Tree” with Lapwing Publishers, Belfast. He has also had poems published in several international journals, including the London Grip, the Californian Catamaran, the Honest Ulsterman, the Fortnightly Review, the Galway Review, the Cormorant, Dreich, Impsired, the Lothlorien and An Aitiuil. In 2022 his poem “Lost Souls” was adapted into a short film and won the Blissfest film festival in Chicago. The film was also a finalist in the Cork poetry film festival and the Drumshanbo written word festival. It was also selected for the Los Angeles poetry film festival. Kevin has also published eight fiction novels, including his latest, Darkness at the edge of town, published by Book Hub. A new poetry collection entitled, A Cold Wind from the lake is currently in production.

 Our lakes are our seas.

By Kevin McManus

Here in the heartlands, living fifty miles or more from the Atlantic shore, our souls are anchored within the embrace of inland waters, far from the dramatic dance of breaking waves, here, our lakes are our seas.

We find solace in the quietude of ripples, life pulses to a rhythm set by the gentle lapping of water that caress the edges of our existence. The sunsets paint the horizon with hues of gold and crimson, reflecting on the mirrored surface of the lakes, turning them into liquid canvases of dreams. No need for a surfer’s bravado, no desire to conquer colossal waves; our spirits find fulfilment in the subtle undulations of a stormy lough in Winter.

In the cold months, when the air is crisp, the foamy tide waltzes in harmony with the squalls of wind, a delicate dance to the slow movement of the season. Ice crystals form on bare branches and glisten like diamonds under the pale winter sun.

As we walk along the shores, the lake becomes a companion in solitude. Its ebb and flow synchronise with the tone of our thoughts, echoing the silent conversations of our innermost selves. Each ripple tells a story, a tale of resilience in the face of seasonal change, a metaphor for the cycles of life mirrored in the constant transformation of the water beneath the open sky.

The lakes are not just bodies of water; they are the arteries of our connection to the land. We are tethered to them by the threads of generations past and the promises of generations yet to come. The shorelines may lack the drama of towering cliffs, but they possess a quiet majesty, a beauty that speaks of enduring strength and unspoken wisdom.

In the heartlands, where the lakes are our sea, we find a sanctuary where time moves at its own pace. It is a place where the horizon is not defined by distant shores but by the limitless expanse of water, stretching towards the edges of our imagination. And in the subtle whispers of the lakes, we discover the profound truth that, in their tranquillity, we are reminded of our own depths.