The hill speaks:
If you are defenceless, come
close to my side and sanctuary;
if you are short of blessings, come
to drink from my wellsprings;
if you are in need of a hiding place, come
under the veil of my mists.
I give a welcome to the pure in heart
to a broad open mind.
I rejoice in new ways, new visitors –
the mighty and the weak.
Come from Africa and the East
from Syria, Eritrea, Afghanistan.
There’s scope here in my skirts
for the picking and choosing of your houses:
the grand houses of the Tiger
as roomy as hotels
big houses with big hearts
little houses of welcome
houses full but always a way
to squeeze in a few more
holiday homes, dream homes
empty houses, houses just built
abandoned houses, fallen-down houses
houses whose hearths ring with music and vigour
houses of hardship, houses of the fairies.
Come across the seas to me, come into my place -
I have empty ground
and shelter here for a people.
Come into my open arms.