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Posts Tagged ‘mist’

GLORY PASSES

All the mountains have walked away.
The hills, stirred themselves and flown.
Nothing remains but clouds and mist.

Rivers fall straight from heaven.
Forests, hushed and silent now, listen.
Distance is the well of Time.

I sit without words, empty,
(Though words themselves
Are hollow flocks).
They graze and move on,
Ineluctable patterns,
A partial view of constellations:
Midnight cloud.

It is a virtue to forget,
To remember and to forget oneself.
A virtue to see what is without compare.

Unremarked, glory passes
As sun and storm on a Spring day.
Jewelled with light the bare branches,
Silver and dark the upland roads.

The sky laughs at the invention of morning,
Rises up as mountains return
Refeshed and glistening,
World without end.

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Cloud Valley

CLOUD VALLEY

Cloud valley,
a cleft of mist
Where trees
breathe white
In smoke drifting
shadow.

A hidden,
silent place,
Its own winds
and weather.
Where long yesterdays
Drip
and linger,
A cushioned,
cultivated moss.

Above a winding
flight of kites,
Wheeling the way
the sun does.
And the shout of ravens,
Stern as castles.

The heart may watch for hours
The roll of dark and light,
The folds of far off land,
But it is in cloud valley
Where spirit longing loiters,
The shroud of matter,
A weightless dance,
Once more revolved,
Tasted.

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slate blue red3

KEY SIX
(Sheaval, Barra)

To bring us home safe
She waits upon the hillside.
To bring us home safe –
Old roads straight worn
From loch to lochan.

The cry of seagulls
From the land
Lost in mists.

Bell.
Chalice.
Cloud.
Watcher.

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ONE MOMENT AFTER ANOTHER

1
The morning is
Daffodils and speedwell.

Above the tumble,
Jackdaws skim and surf
Blurred wind.

There will be,
(Say the clouds),
An afternoon of shadows
Collecting rainbows.

A season of light,
A thimble
Of forgetfulness.

2
Dawn reflex
A refection of cloud.
Nothing I could have done better.

Dappled elegance, cold blanket,
A tipping of scales,
A slow drift to the east.

A furrow, cross-cutting purpose,
A tiny friction, a wing-beat.

A sampling of enigmatic facts,
A certain blue
A certain distance,
A shading off into infinity.

(refection = a remaking, a nutrient, a food for body, mind and spirit)

3
New rising
Mist and birds,
Rising with the sun.
Rabbits pause and scatter.
Slow hills take form.
Heaven divides from earth.
A bleating of lambs.

4
Light in lines and waves
A moment mirroring
Off rooftop frost.
White grasses shudder and steam.
A birth of shadows, proud instants
No longer in between.

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HARVEST FESTIVAL

Cloud rests, winged.
Feathered, these upland mists.
Green grey the day along
Swathed and shrouded hills.

The still, one prayer, arcs
The scooped valleys.
(Pitted the stones,
Time-pocked).

A bell, a peal:
A gathered fruitfulness,
A hymnal of sunlit days.
In sainted, beached ship,
Sails of praise turn tides.

We become indwelling,
Folded,
The promise of rain,
The blackbird’s quiver-
Heart arrowed, liquid.

——

20131006-153911.jpg

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We recently travelled to the Isle of Skye and the Western Highlands of Scotland. October in Scotland is glorious and the weather was good – not too overcast, not too sunny – so that we were able to see the land in many of its moods and atmospheres. I have selected a few images around the subject of water. I hope you enjoy the visual essay.

Taken from a cafe window in Portree, Skye, early morning looking east.

 

Fron Ord, Sleat, Isle of Skye, looking across Loch Eishort towards the Black Cuillins.

 

Clouds reflecting in the still waters of a loch an near Kilt Rock, Trotternish, Skye.

 

 

Looking across the sea to Harris from Duntulm, Trotternish, Skye.

 

 

Ripples on Loch Bay, Waternish, Skye.

 

 

Dawn sky over Kyleakin, Skye. The view from our bedroom window.

 

 

Sunrise over Kyleakin, Skye. Waves of light.

 

 

Early morning mists lift into the sky over Glen Garry.

 

Mists, shadows, trees, Glen Garry.

 

 

Still waters, slow moving mists. Loch Lochy.

 

Sunlight enters the woods. Mist rises from the waters. Loch Lochy.

 

 

Water-worn pools, Falls of Killin.

 

 

Waterside willows, Loch Venachar.

 

 

The sky below. Loch Venachar.

 

 

The Waters of the World. Loch Venachar.

——

This world

is the Otherworld:

Silver and gold

in turns.

The road flies

to the horizons

where our eyes linger,

longing

for something

right

in front

of

us.

 

———

 

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