Held by a Thread

For any who are grieving, especially in Spain.

A thread of land reaches out to the west,

As if to touch a peaceful New World,

And take a longed for well-earned rest,

Those that are lain in this sacred ground,

Are held in the arm of one they love,

And lulled to sleep by the sea’s soothing sound,

To be lifted quietly far above

The cares and worries of this transient life,

And the fears and anger of war and strife,

A thread of land reaches into the sea,

And a song is carried on the wind to me.

 

A thread of land reaches out far beyond me,

And I would follow into the west,

I would sail across a blue green sea,

I feel so weary I could fall fast asleep,

To a lullaby sung in the waves and air,

Carried by white horses risen from the deep,

They would all my burdens easily bear,

Light of my load I would rise and fly,

Far above any clouds into a blue sky,

A thread of land reaches out passing me by,

I hear a song carried on the breath of a sigh.

 

'As far as an old stone wall,

Summer’s bounty is harvested,

For winter’s lean days,

Lying drying in a salty sea breeze,

Beyond an old stone wall,

Mown short green grass

Marks sacred ground

Harvested by an unseen hand.

The old stone wall stands

Between life and death,

Yet it stands only for life

Protecting the harvests

That holds Earth’s goodness,

Lives lived capturing light,

Golden gifts to carry warmth

From day into the night,

I have seen the golden hay,

Stacked and packed,

The sweet scent of summer captured

And held with care to fulfil a need,

I have seen a reflection of pure joy,

Light up tired blue eyes

With the last surprise

And gently lead the way.

I have seen beyond the horizon,

Through a mirrored window,

And having seen once would find

Everywhere the echo of a song,

I cannot learn to sing,

And only brings pain,

As I try time and again to touch

With words I don’t have the music I hear.'

Tags: holiday in Orkney