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