It is thought that Ireland became an island at sometime between 10,000 BCE and 5,700 BCE… by Deirdre Hines

It is thought that Ireland became an island at sometime between 10,000 BCE and 5,700 BCE…

but long before that tectonic wave birthed our
original origins, the packs tracked us

on scent-marked ancient oaks, forest mulch, ogham stones
grew ears like Charon the better to hear the howl-

girls gathering baskets of wolfsbane dream journeyed
in red coats searching Shewolf wisdom down within

by entering an opening in stone, slipping
deep below, embracing the darkness in the light:

raising muzzles starcrooning packbonded place
sharing the lore around turf fires in ringforts,

the lore of all the blue and green living things
pairing She wolf to She who chose to walk the lone path

through shifting, rustling leaves brushing against dream doors
carved from cedar, oak, iron, silver, timber

the bridges between this world and the next arrive
at places that no-one had ever been before-

the places of white starlight, green waterfalls
blue expanses, rocky white-tailed eagle cliffs-

are places that we all have hidden deep within
where leafwindstone play symphonies of memory

of She wolves hunting in rhythm to the drum
that beats out time in time and out of time to send

wolfsong across the seasons of the ages
as harmonics to sound in times of discordant

when all the wolves will have forsaken the land
and been forsaken in their turn-

when all the fishes will have drowned in waters
dirty and contaminated by fiscal balance-

when all temples to trade will have been blown down
by guardian ghost wolves believed extinct-

When professional wolf hunters are back once more
to collect the bounty on all our heads-

only then will they return to huff,puff and blow down
doors bolted shut against She Wolf dreaming awake

the need to feed the heart, to drink the blood body
only then will deficit dissolve away to reveal

the scent of black timber wolf written on your skin
marking packs of wolves met again to sing

old bone back to life on re-remembered Wolf Road
two syllables singing one word, spelling out “greenheart”.

Deirdre Hines is an award winning poet and playwright. Her first collection of poetry, The Language of Coats was published by New Island Press, and includes the poems which won The Listowel Poetry Collection (2011). She has had new poems published in The Lake, Deep Water Literary Journal, Screech Owl, Abridged, The Bombay Review , Your One Phone Call, deadsnakes and The Derry Post. Click on the Youtube link at to hear her read some poems.

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