Wandering Land
I saw Sorley's tree sing on the Cuillin
It sang of things I'd forgotten
A symphony written for the wind
A grass ballet staged on a sunny Skye
I saw horses walk through the moon
On the beach of an Ardfern night
Bathed in a perfect beauty
Bathed in a perfect light
I walked down a swan highway
White down just above our heads
And the parliament of heron day
Forever re-runs in our heads
Near the foot of Dunad
Near the sandmartin's sand
Lies a state of magic
In this our wandering land.
Tom Melville ©2011
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