ON THE ROCK

ON THE ROCK

As I sit there on a rock
on the highest top.
Of a little island

surrounded by beauty of the sea

Looking round with a joy that hurts
I see the sea – surrounding me, hear whispers
From the wind talking to the sea and
from glistening rocks, smiling.

Seagulls and terns sail and swoop
with grace and joy, being their pure selves.
Me, I am transfixed to be, just now

part of this peace,
that fills my heart.

Lifting my arms to the sky, I speak
words I never known before
They seem to fill me – like the wind
that lifts the gull.

Scents of heathers drifting down,
Down the rocks
Filling every crevice, filling me.

© miriam ivarson