The Red Road

There were no voices on the red road
No words no prayers no magic
And anyone who says ‘I know the way,’
has never walked outside the waiting door,
And anyone who says ‘I can explain’
is singing to a mirror on the wall.
No traveller who ever walked the road
will say: return from Ixtlan, come,
the people wait. Do you not know your family?
Heal them with telling. Sing a nightjar song
Where cries for help go out to meet the dark
serene and moonless on a window ledge.
Small shadows wonder why you still aspire
To rescue those enchantments dear and old
Forgetting that you scattered them behind you,
when running, flying down the red road.

©Debbie Gallagher 13/04/2015