The wood so softly singing
In a language strange to hear
And the song it sings will find you
As the twilight draws you near


Witch Road

To begin at the beginning it’s an ordinary lane
and the hedge alongside it a common hedgerow
bordering a field until the twined spindles
of its twisted branches bind the shifted light
around leaf and stem along another path through
the spaces between here and there, the shafts
that bend past thorn and bramble, turning
the glimpses caught in the eye’s corners away
into lines of sight, seer sight, lit by witch light
so each dark interstice of hedge is a step
through to another place, snickets running
deeper with each turn from one to another
into the lane that runs, no ordinary course,
just where the first lane runs but elsewhere
a half-step away from familiar things
spellbound now as the road slips through
and finds a way into Faery.


Kris Hughes said...

This is lovely. I know the liminality of hedgerows!

Hamadryad said...

I know that road too ....

and this tells of its essence so intensely.

Heron Mist said...

Thanks Kris, knowing the ways through such borders is a talent to be cherished.

And thanks too Hamadryad, I can see you know it from your own blog.