Do you remember The Oystercatchers

in the quiet of still morning?

Their call shrill and persistent

as if a warning…

 

that in places formed from fiery rock

cold hearts might thaw their perma-freeze,

and from that melt of frozen shock

rise like Eagles on Summer breeze.

 

Do you remember how we fell?

and how we sailed that Mirrored Sea,

firing memories only we can tell

of how that Highland set us free.

 

Within that ancient rim of land

are roots of times no longer known,

and it was their I took your hand

from where our flame-cast love has grown.

 

though we might wander, sail and soar

it is to there we shall return,

beneath the sacred forest floor

where Molten Lakes of old worlds burn.