Counting their crowns
In whose reflections the eyes
In whose reflections the hair
Shimmers
Forming a heart of tears upon the skin itself
Within that infamous and marvellous peat
Where gulls and ravens keep watch
For revelation
My arms are masts, my saddle a hold
My pedals, two flying fish
With twenty islands before them in the wind
A boreal meadow within their hollow
And rocks gazing brazenly at the sea
My stone heart understands them
When, in the evening, I race the stars
And marvel at the branching of the impetuous sky
Our mouths swear an oath
Our hands sign with discernment
Living lands, you dwell within me now
And we shall never leave one another.