Colm Roe wrote: ↑
Sun Aug 19, 2018 2:17 am
The earth incubates us, and
is slow to anger,
our assaults take generations
to prompt a reaction.
Like a new born it's there
defenceless, beautifully scented.
As a child I was closer,
bringing in the hay, cutting turf
or before dawn, from cooler heights
where the world appeared to be
nothing more than the grey space
between a million spider webs, spun
only, to catch a mist of tiny diamonds,
herded cattle to lower
took no insult from our tramplings,
all the while sharing itself
gorse or ferns require just one sense.
In those quiet hours
folklore became real,
some mushrooms must not be disturbed
unwritten treaties between the fairies and us.
They're just stories, passed down
from generation to generation
to protect children
and maintain a balance
but it's all magic for me.