“Til the rocks melt with the sun;”
Is that how long love goes on,
Beyond the trappings of time and the outer contours of the mind?
I learned of love within the cadence of Celtic songs.
Daddy played them on an old piano
And mommy sang along.
The walls they rang with something that wasn’t
Really so hard to understand;
The aching of one heart for another,
Always swept apart by the sea
And the way a lifetime
Can make it too far to reach
The other, distant shore.
But the sorrow at the core of Highland songs,
I understand better now;
Now that every tangible thing from those years
Their voices silenced and a home knocked down,
Lullabies buried in the ground.
The piano sold and gravestones too far away for me to hold,
But love, love is the Moorland in my soul
And it is wide and open
And the purple heather grows
Forever and descends to a churning sea,
And melodies, on the wind, they whip between the rocks and disappear.
And though I can no more grasp voices from the air
Than hold love here,
I will stand on this shore and I will sing these
And though they drift across the sea,
This love has been worth it all the while,
Even if time carries it away,
And it never comes back to me,
"Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will love thee still, my dear,
While the sands o’ life shall run."