Posts tagged ‘migration’

30/09/2013

Transhumance

 

Above the tree line of the soul,

Where air is thin and minds can float,

She sparks her memory, speaks her loss.

She moves through pastures draped in blooms.

 

And there she lives her ghostly life,

She watches shadows cast on clouds

Which gather on the valley floor.

She knows the turn and flow of things.

 

But further up, beyond her gaze,

The bells of cattle ring the peaks,

The gentians stain the petaled sky,

The crystals carve the rainbow’s curve.

 

Her soul awaits the season’s change,

With buttermilk and waterfalls.

 

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20/04/2013

Corncrakes (South Uist)

 

The sweetened stench of kelp in lines –

As long as reef and Viking old –

Comes tangled with lamenting seals,

With diver’s wails of freedoms edge.

 

And through that sharpened sense of sky,

Across the machair, orchid wild,

The corncrakes called and answered spring,

And sleepless summoned summer’s nights.

 

These are the worlds of ocean spray,

Of distant deeps and tangled sedge,

Of histories hidden in the sands,

Of islands on the brink of time.

 

Through scented tides they call the moon:

The corncrakes mark the passing years.

 

21/07/2012

The Song of Ondine (Migration)

 

She flew alongside Sahel birds,

Migrating from their summer sedge.

She saw her ocean waves at work,

As autumn surges shaped the coast.

 

She saw the spread of lights at night,

And scars where scrubland disappeared.

The Sahel cuckoos held their calls.

They saw the marshlands drained and dried.

 

And further south the deserts spread

With sandstorms burning ever on.

She whirled in dust as dry as death.

Some birds pressed on while others fell.

 

The deserts scarified their tongues,

They looked to her to flow with song.

02/01/2012

Yellow Wagtail

 

The gentle rains have summoned gold

From limestone walls as light as leaf.

The summer citrine floating gems

Are raised to shine on sundewed peat.

 

Their calls as fine as spider’s silk

Are threaded through the spikes of sedge,

And bright as mirrors to the sun

Chase heaven in a skyward vault.

 

As fragile as the cotton grass:

Arrive in April, dance in May,

Come autumn join the swallows south

And leave the hills to still and grey.

 

The yellow wagtail’s second life:

Is gleaming in the Sahel’s sands.