Scoil na gCruach 1907-1971

BF.AlACH NA gCREACH and mountains clad in films of vapour, like candy floss, or a bridal veil. He re the sounds are voice from deep within and a breath of movement. And the sun's echo is touching all for one last moment, one last caress. At last, as the colours fade, the stillness deepens. Here, Earth stands and tells that she is mother, that she was first that we, her plundering children , came after an eon of gestation. Patiently she endures, breathes for us, waits for our awakening. The school stands empty now, the door ajar. Young animals graze up to the very threshold. Theirs, too, the mossed flints, which once spoke 'drafocht' to a child. Theirs the purpled ligh t from the ring of mountains on a summer's evening. But mine to come again and breath the bog and pine and hear the bleat of sheep and fee l the moss spring under my feet. These are mine, I theirs, these hills, Their colours mine, their patien t waiting, their yield ing and receiving. Their winding ways more mine than arrow motorways. 115