Ancient Trackways


My mind travels sometimes
To the ancient trackways across the land;
The furrows that unfurl the past,
And lead to the soft pathed hills
streaked with moss and fern.

I imagine the many feet that have trod
The paths to shrine, stones, and wells
And the deep memories they share;
The streams of wisdom flow on now, in silence
Knowledge runs green against the whispering sky.

The clues are there in the landscape, should you wish to hear
The rushing wisdoms that echo across deep lanes and green trees.

Listen for my whisper in the quiet lanes
And I'll guide you where the ancient footsteps lead
To the sacred places that lie still and quiet in the land

..and talking of snow which you know I adore
I went out snowboarding
with the old lady next door.
She came out all dressed in a parka and trews
and wore green spangled stockings with six inch heel shoes.

We raced along alleyways which we made into trackways,
then she turns and says,
'where are the brakes?'
I said,I don't know
and so we carried on skateboarding the snow.