I love this poem by Patrick Kavanagh:
Raven’s Rest
By Patrick W Kavanagh.
The trees whisper gently, “The Raven’s at rest”.
The chicks are all safely tucked up in their nests.
The green grass is sleepy as light slowly fades.
The sheep are all dozing on hills and in glades.
The faeries arise as the moon lights the sky.
If you quietly peek you can see them fly by.
They fish in the pond and they play in the trees.
You can hear their soft laughter float by in the breeze.
They love making stories and puzzles and rhymes.
That’s mostly how wee folk love spending their time.
They hear all your wishes. They know all your dreams.
But nothing they tell you may be what it seems.
I spoke to a seanchaí who once raised a stone.
He told me a story that’s second to none.
It’s really a puzzle, that almost got lost.
The puzzle is this, - that a swan is a ghost.
He gave me this puzzle as day turned to night.
I pondered and wondered ‘til dawns early light.
The clue was a duckling who grew into a swan.
The answer was, - sometimes that story is wrong.
A duckling’s a duckling – a child is a child.
And each should be cherished and cheerful and wild.
Each duckling is perfect in their special way.
There’s no need to wish to be swans some fine day.
I spoke to the Faeries, and they all agreed,
That swan-dom could just be an unhappy seed.
Much better to be the best duck you can be,
Than to swan around posing for people to see.
I know it’s a story that’s strange and bizarre.
But the moral is easy – just be who you are.
No need to pretend or to put on a show.
Being happy as you is the best way to go.
(seanchaí pronounced Shaun-chy. (Gaelic storyteller)
Artist: Rosie Dore
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