Spirals, Turnings at Newgrange

The sun enters the passage;

I meet him on my way;

he touches my head

like water.

I emerge into day;

in the chamber

the sun dwells a moment

on my earlier impressions.

I return after the day

to elaborate my carving,

my spirals,

my perpetual turning.

Stone Art

 

 

 

 

                            Stone at Newgrange photo by Johnbod. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/User:Johnbod.

 

 

A man is carving shapes:

spirals, lozenges, chevrons;

the sun is looking over his shoulder.

Below, in the valley, the Boyne passes

 with a glint from its teeth,

the whitethorn is in full bloom,

the daylight hours are long. 

 

His hands are leather from handling flint;

a wave traverses the stone,

arcs toss on the crests,

they tip left then right;

tonight the moon is tipping left;

in three weeks daytime will be at its longest.