She calls.
Come, I am waiting.
There is a tremor in the air.
Subtle, subtle.
A faint breeze,
The tiniest ruffle of fur.
The stones watch
As the Old Magic stirs.

Step by gentle step I follow her call
And there she waits,
Guardian of the gateway to the Old World.
Closer, closer,
The hare’s breath, a hair’s breadth
Between us.

The hare’s breath
Rises and falls

Patiently,
Knowingly.

I am called to her audience
And we regard each other,
Her dark eyes to mine.

Wild things both we are.
Having no fear, one of the other.
Only this timeless regard, one for the other.
In the tremulous air
We are sisters.
The ancient knowing passing between us.

The stones watch.
The hare waits.

It is only I who has to leave
And return to the world.
A little less human than before,
My poor humanity blessed by her benediction.

This poem was written after an extraordinary encounter with the hare of the title. Whilst out walking one day on wild land near local standing  stones a female hare ran swiftly across my path and disappeared ahead of me. I had a profound feeling that she was both calling me and waiting for me. I followed her path for a minute or so and, sure enough, there she was....sitting under a gorse bush watching me approach. Hares are renowned for their reluctance to be anywhere near human beings and so I expected her to run but she didn't. I got slowly closer and closer to her and eventually sat down next to her under the gorse bush. She was extraordinarily beautiful, tawny and looking calmly up at me with blue-black eyes. We sat together for some time until I had to leave. I turned and turned as I walked away and each time she was still sitting there watching me leave. When I turned one last time she had disappeared. I have had a number of experiences like this with animals, birds, fish, seals  and dolphins in the time that I have lived in the west of Ireland.