poetry diary

Born in my spring, of timeless histories;
searching for love, like a forlorn moon.
I am a river, wetting your cool earth.

My life is a flow, like a song in June;
playing in the mountains, dancing with light;
joining my sisters, challenging cold rocks.

And in the valleys – how I miss my youth –
I meander amongst cow-stained fields
and kiss your banks, fertile warming soil.

Darkening and chattering, eddying onwards,
carrying your mud, tasting your soft silt,
and giving succour to silvered fishes.

It is the sea, the sea, the sea I seek;
at last dissolving to wholeness with you,
and we are one in salt, and surf, and sand.