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India May 2013
High.
As high as the skylark.
My only companion is the wind,
Bringing me news of noise
Far below.

Silence, like a watchful hawk,
Swooping down suddenly.
My bed is the grass and the wildflowers.
My refuge -
The top of the world.
India May 2013
The child
Is a creature of the sea
He is a bird that dives into the cool
Living for the waves.
Roar and splash, spray and swirl.

The child runs barefoot
Across burning sand
Springs heedlessly into the unknown
Grasping at pebbles, clutching at bubbles.
Kick and glide, pull and breathe.

The child
Is a creation of the sea
He is son of the sun and the sand and the shore
Unclothed and untainted.
The child is a beach child.
India Feb 2013
Rustling wheatfields.
Together we walk tall and strong
Into the leaping wind,
Our songs meeting and parting.
We find a blackbird's nest.

Your saffron hair
Braided. My swallow soul
Spreads its wings and tries to fly,
Our songs swooping and soaring.
We build a bridge for the sky between us.
This is a work in progress!

— The End —