Remember Me, I Go.

—

I

Arctic air felt on a summers evening
along verges spilling with umbels, long grass,
the intimation of distant glaciers,
snow covered mountains, seabirds whirring
above the rise of wave thrashed cliffs.
Then on the road ahead a ginger haired
nymph of roads, too beautiful to approach
so I only stand and wonder where
all of the roads go. She turns in summer light
and form flows with oceans and memory recalls
us away from real time to real time
like consciousness is faint music
and she takes my hand and we go
through the gate and I do not know
what love lies behind the words we say
but I am going on a way.

And every way is unknown. Life coming
and going like the whirl of martins
beneath a crescent moon, cycles
overlapping in circles of gold.
It is beyond me, and within me,
and each moment blooms to become me.