Rowanberries

A poem by Róis Faughnan, age 15, Holy Faith Secondary School, Clontarf, Dublin 3

Open the door in the old stone wall
that you never saw before.

Go down the path
with the strange, glittering cobbles
tread lightly
and do not disturb the flowers.

When you reach the graveyard
stick to the path.

Trail your fingers along the headstones
and read the names carefully (do not step on the graves).

When the ghosts appear
Do not be afraid.

Remember that every night has its dawn
and every winter hides the spring.

The forest is beyond the graveyard
do not trust the oak trees.

The willows and the ash will help you on your way.
The rowan tree will offer you a branch
take it
but do not tell it where you are going.

The mountains are tall and sharp and rocky
but you can cross them
though you will bruise and bloody your feet.

When the eagle tells you that it is hungry
feed it
with the berries from your rowan branch.

It will thank you
and point the way.

In the cave you will find three old women
spinning golden thread.

You will know to answer their question
from the story of your journey.

Do not pay heed to the bones in the corners
but take the challenge they will give you.
(The thread of your life is strung in the willow-wood harp.)

On your way home
go back the way you came.

Ride the bronze eagle
and take the feather it will give you.

Run through the forest
(remember to thank the trees)
Dance through the graveyard
(leave your branch in front of the crypt.)

Go back up the glittering path
and now you may pick the flowers.
(Pick only three, and do not step on them.)

Open the door, and step back into the world.
Then go home.
Or stay.