Rain poured down, cold but welcome
Soaking my sweater, my hair, my being
Hood up no help at all against the pour
Breathing in deep the smell of petrichor
Once the onslaught begins to slowly ebb

The Scottish street awakens as the sun
Finally makes her grand appearance 
Reviving the city and bringing it to life
I am here with my family, some blood
And some chosen for myself with age

This is where my people came from, 
Or close to at any rate, we are south
They hailed from the highlands above
Yet I am here, my feet on Scottish land
My name a Scottish name, a tartan
Bearing it inside a little cozy shop

There is something bittersweet to know
That there are people here I will share
Kin with, a name with, a history with
But we will likely never meet each other
It is also humbling to realize just how small
The world really is, as I walk through Glasgow
Just one of many who are trying to find
The place where their roots were once planted