Ancient sentinels of the Sperrins a litany of snow and vows
Ancient sentinels of the Sperrins.
Litany of Snow and Vows
The Sperrin Mountains rose like ancient sentinels
through drifting snow.
Robins flared across white fields,
tiny garnets quivering in winter’s hush.
In the low kitchen light,
we sliced cucumbers and scallions,
jar lids clicking shut on summer’s green sweetness.
I felt like a wayfarer suspended between the world I had left
and the one I had yet to claim.
They promised me I would be a Dr,
but life got in the way and that stayed a dream.
At dusk, wounds of hope and hesitation bled together
as I dreamed of stethoscopes and midnight wards.
‘Spare me your promises,’ I whispered
to the widening dark,
‘I will choose courage over comfort every time.’
Under soft rain we knelt in the garden,
planting Sambucus seedlings
like vows for a shared tomorrow.
October’s apples tumbled in slow arcs,
their crimson rise echoing our hearts’ quiet yearning.
Pine needles showered us in fragrant green rain.
lilies glowed pale as moonlight,
kniphofia erupted in fiery tongues.
Mornings dawned in smoky ultramarine,
light filtered through invisible lilac
as if the world exhaled a secret.
The moon’s dance faltered each night,
and my pulse found its own rhythm,
untethered and insistent.
Far off, the peaks wore fresh white scarves:
ancient memories carved in ice and time.
I searched for the divine
in the slate-grey face of still water,
tracing my own longing in its surface.
I know these old roads,
overgrown and whispering with grass.
each step a line in the litany of my life.
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