High Dreaming For Jenni Poem by Vanya Orr

Against the western sea margin
Where the hills stand, mist gray or heather studded,
Spring drenched or primrose budded: We stood there
You & one other & I.
In a Gateway to ancient paths & spirit places…
We stood there with the sky looming & the woods gathering.
The old gate ogham scripted with its arrows staking north, north-east..
You choose…
Below our feet inscripted stones from other travelers,
old friends who passed this way,
journey, dream & food, sharing & breaking.

New Age folk and their donkeys to the west land fall.

We step ahead into the past, with the hill behind us.
Here, we are alone & I am sharing
a power, a heartscape-landscape
stripped now of the windgrass & young willow.

Stripped of the tenderness which held it-
A small cwm with the sacred spring
Still running & the washing place.
Above, a small grass mound
For sacrifice? For love? For offering to the gods?
Perhaps all these –

But you and he are walking on, away.
And I am seized with chill & call you -
screaming into the wind
while the mistfill gathers & sways
& the trees..

Finally you turn & come- slowly, tenderly.
But my heart is weeping- come!
And we move back through the terror
And gently through the old powers
Return to the hills safe keeping.