“Róisín is in the woods, and there are robins in her hair.
Her roots reach into the earth’s deep, warm heart
They are dens for foxes, and for pixies
This is no exaggeration to say – sunlight is her smiling
At night, the stars are hers.
Galaxies nestle in her branches like birds
Infinite dance of things. Noon into night.
Spring takes winter by the bough
Days blink back tears overhead.
Butterflies hang baskets round her
The seasons leave her flowers
Bluebells, buttercup. Wild rose
In autumn, I picked her a four leaf clover
Which she pressed in a cookbook
Soon, I will look for it, among her recipes
orange cake, green tea syrup – and there it will be
Today, or tomorrow maybe,
I will look round her roots for another
I grew this for you, she will say. I made sure it was here.
and it will be true –
every living being has energy
Pulsing, electric field
When it rains, it is my sister, drinking the sky
Around her, clear, pure air
This is her alchemy. She is becoming a tree, and now
The horizon is her crown,
vastness, clouds and blue, warm sun, stars and moons.
My mother walks a deerhound in all weathers
Together, they are gathered as one.
Dog digging in the dirt
My mother, speaking to the heavens
Embracing the trunk of a great beech
The wheel turning, all round us
She shelters us now. Róisín.
Taller than ever. Queen of the forest
My sister was a tower of will.
Willing herself upright
believing herself to health
She almost won, you know
Now, she has won peace, and leaves wreath her hair
Squirrels and martens chase round her
Roots weaving the earth
Branches braiding the heavens
Tree of life. Centre of the world.
Seedlings grow in her shade
We used to play together in the elm by the gate
Of our garden. Baile Beag.
Hairy mollies crawling through a palm
Till it itched. I ache to return.
When we were children, Róisín. I knew you were forever.

Tá mo deirfiur san coill
Le spideoga ina gruaig
Fraomhaca domhan domhain
Ag anall anois, go saor”