Aine MacAodha Poetry & links

Draiocht

Magic happens in the cool waters of healing wells

making the journey under clay; to offer up

cures within its life force.

I’ve seen it as winter blends its end of days

into the arrival of spring. On mountains

and boundaried fields as morning mist

vanishes.

Within myself when i forget the world a while

do nothing except listen to the order of things

or stare into space.

Within the lunar cycles when moon phases

stir the spirit in an ancient way; as it passes

on its journey.

Its there too on the faces of new born babies;

reddened from the delicate path taken

from womb to world, dark to light.