Where Green Roads Meet

Who never ask

The Old Man leaves his Road to those
Who love it no less since it lost purpose,

Who never ask what History is up to,
So cannot act as if they knew:

W H Auden

The Annunciation

Peace of Iona

peace of the glancing, dancing waves
peace of the white sands
peace of Iona
peace of the singing wind
peace of the stones
peace of Iona

peace of the crying gulls
peace of the humming bees
peace of the noontime stillness
peace of dreaming hills
peace of the breath of angels
peace of Iona

peace of the saints and seekers
peace of the monks and druids
peace of the resting place of kings
peace of the ruins
peace of doves in the bell tower
peace of Iona

peace of the glad heart
peace of the rested mind
peace of my lover's pots and potions
peace of her healing hands
peace of her lazy laughter
peace of Iona

peace of the unseen
peace of the spirit
peace of Iona
peace of the unseen
peace of the Spirit
peace of Iona

Mike Scott

Avebury ditch excavations: circa 1912

The Henge

Swing the antler pick and make it work
Dig the earth, Mothers bounty plunge
Ditch from flat make, bank from level make
Lower it and raise it deep and high
Enclose it, and shield it from the curious eye
And within ahh within what do we protect?
The Holies, the market, the meeting, the bridepost
The Folk join and the Folk separate all within the bank
Sunrise and Sunset, Mid-Winter and Summer
The cows graze and wander the sacred ways
The grass grows green, the pits are dug, fires are lit
Flint sharp and bone white, amber and jet lie beaded
Within the embrace of Mothers arms, young child and dog
Feasts remains and alder and ash branches soon to rot
Beaker tall and pot with mouth wide, agape
The sanctuary and the secular one indivisible
So I swing the antler pick and make it work

Edward Radfall