Tre’r Ceiri

These stones, tumbled bones
scattered in the dark earth as
stars before the tumultuous winds.

Another gust throws itself against the heights,
fierce in its knowing, the knife of presence
unmistakably pushing weary legs and
dazzled mind beyond a horizon of unspeakable blue,

blue indistinguishable between sea and sky,
where one gives way into the arms of the other,

and all along the edge
half hidden in sprays of heather, purple, pale,
hallucinating with its own quiet grip on the world,
these markers of beauty even here in harshness,

amidst the swelling bilberries,
tang gushing forth into sweetness,
every experience encapsulated in one,

desire sired by delight

the feather of feeling floats far out over
the sea, this high place
full of clarity only claimed at the pinnacle

before walking down with all the views to behold.
Only in descent does the ancient star arrive,
our own terrible fullness burning heavily in our beings
until there is no choice left but

to return.