Featured Poem: Ancient Roads

Nancy Haskett
Modesto Branch

 

At Brú na Bóinne,
Neolithic people walked on ancient roads
through sacred Irish land
toward prehistoric passage graves
and ceremonial temples like Newgrange,
where grass grows atop a rounded mound,
over white quartz walls layered with earth and stone,
carved circles, spirals, chevrons, arcs;
created by a people older than the Pyramids and Stonehenge
who feared the loss of light in autumn’s abbreviated days,
this holy place keeps a secret all year long
until dawn of Winter Solstice
when the rising sun peeks in through a roofbox
aligned to capture the rays,
sends them to the inner chamber,
flooding the floor with light —
an annual miracle providing reassurance that the days,
once again,
will begin to lengthen

 

 

Comments

  1. Sara Etgen-Baker says

    Loved your piece and the reassurance that comes on December 21st. My dad and I neither one are winter weather fans. On December 21st he always woke me with excitement in his voice. “Today’s December 21st…now the days begin to get longer again.” He (and I) take comfort in knowing that from now till June 21st the days slowly become longer and the languid days of summer will return. 🙂