Wednesday, April 09, 2014

Iona - a poem


I am a place of pilgrimage
I, a destination
Of flight, rail, road and sea
My undyed yarn unfolds
My white sand, turquoise bay
Green remote and rugged me.

I am an edge in existence
I, a peregrination
Of flight, fall, chance and prayer
My crossroad cross points - where?
High above my jewels and pearls
Castled clouds and sea-spray air.

I am a tear on heaven's veil
I, a transfiguration
Of boot, bog, dust and track
My winding path unwinds.
Shy thin place, end of my world.
Go further, fall, go back?

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