CUCKOO-TIME

For TMH

Well into May, in the middle of town

 - with woodlands, water-meadows and traffic busy on the road;

I thought it was a turtle dove cooing

but no, the rascal, magical bird

ventures ever closer,

echoing its primordial song

to startle and enchant everyfolk in urban gardens,

on balconies and walk-ways

with delight and surprise.

Did we truly hear or dream it?

A sacred spot, 

just over the river, into the foothills, awaits your visitatio

n - is the cuckoo its emissary?

To mark the spot, lead the way to those secret places 

under canopies of great trees,

which owl and badger claim as their own:

an ancient track grooved over millenia by human and creature -

holy-land long before there was a church

so bones and stones buried the site.

But the bells still ring

although the cobbles became 

submerged

and local memory faded into myth;

only names of glens, streams, 

and local lore of massive oak-boles 

 to signify that man has long walked this ancient land.

May 2026