The Path

Connecting the past to where we are:
Bishopscourt to Willett House,
The weeks and months of in between,
With last year's winter crackling underfoot,
Raising this year's hopes in the burst of spring
Shared with the cuckoo, a kindly rogue,
While the gentle robin befriends the path
Made by those who've gone before.

I follow gently, for fear of breaking
The silence of bluebells in the shaded wood,
So only a whisper of the heart
Breathes thanks in the dialogue of prayer
Which echoes back within: I'm here,
Walking the way that's made for you.

May 2015