We are lost in the misty gorges
Where the water hangs
Pendulous and shiny
Waiting for earth’s pull.
We are lost on the road to nowhere,
Looking for direction
On a sweeping hard corner,
Losing control on scuttling shingle.
We look to the horizon for guidance,
Seek the truth of time, yet
It is stolen on the wind, and we turn and turn
And see nothing; not the crag, the hollowing gully,
The stony peak. All gone.
On days such as this, when the tears press hard,
When all is there yet lost – dripping and pendulous,
We are called to that road to nowhere,
Sweeping and soaring to a darkening sky