Mountain Top
Hear me,
Hear my soul calling restlessly from the dusk,
Haunting the lonely places,
The profound rocky places,
Where thoughts strike you deep,
Where you feel humbled in the presence of mighty mountain peaks.
Here in this thin air,
I walk alone,
And once in a while,
When the full moon shines,
I pipe the clear fluting call of the Greenshank,
High over the purple peat moors.
This distance is what I,
The imperial emperor of the indigo night sky,
Warm blooded and wondrous,
Haunt in my time.
