following the lane, walking up the hill
talking of our dreams, ambitions and hopes
yes, it was moonlight, yes, we were young then
this memory, so strong, always returns
i wonder why a momentary walk
comes back so clearly again and again
we wandered less than a mile in the dark
it held pure perfection, yes, it was love
yesterday the thought brought me a smile
today it hurts enough to make me cry
an image etched on my brain and my heart
yes, i grow tired remembering you
From dolmen and hilltop in sunlight and rain
We travel the path as it opens again.
From mountain to ocean through woodland and glade
The way and the telling are already made.
The circle is whole and the pattern will grow
From time immemorial it’s always been so,
Sharing the joys of a journey that starts
In the melding of minds and the opening of hearts,
Recalling the magics that words cannot say
Finding the wending winds of the way
In the voyage of discovery we know who we are
As we follow the light of the mariners star
I will walk beside you as you walk beside me
Our story is the story that’s unbounded and free
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.
The Dreaming Path 