The Sea Never Sleeps

On sleepless nights I drift away
to the house by the rolling sea
where the waves wash home to the shore
pulled out, away, by the moon.
The sound of the waves, the sound of my breath,
in sleep, take me, wash me away,
born on a breathe, borne on a wave
with no dreams to trouble me.

This sleep eludes me tonight.
I find myself
out on the reef
out on the windswept headland
where moonlight shines the way.
The breakers beat the granite rock.
The wind whips and pulls at my hair.
The coarse headland grass whips and sings.

The stars gliding from east to west
a line of light rises at dawn
silvered horizon, the sun.
I wander along the coastal path
past stone walls and the gentle stream,
the sweet vanilla scent of gorse.
I feel a need to keep walking.

I swing through the kissing gate,
warm, smoothed wood under my hand,
on through a field and then further
to the finger of land, reaching out,
high, high up, alone and free,
resting my gaze on the beautiful blue,
forever, curve of the bay.