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Findhorn

Findhorn

I still have your sand on my boots as I touch down in London
Your smell lingers in my hair like sweet cologne of a gentle lover
Age-old and asking nothing in particular
Your shore reaches out
Into the perimeters of my mind toward the mountains beyond

In the day the dark light bathes the bay as the wind ruffles the waves
And we walk entranced as if on the surface of the moon
At night we feel our feet on the stones, our hands in each other’s
As we gather beneath the cold stars and dance
To the tune of our own beautiful bones

Everything we asked for is right here and we know it
Across the island seals lounge with soft black eyes and tails
Inclined in smiling non-confirmation
There is nothing to be lost or won; ghostly boats swim
Drunk on the horizon, journeying like us into the wild unknown

This land of dreams has held me; what might come to be
If we could learn to hold ourselves? I am alone now
And my loneliness knows no company save the songs we have shared
That ring on in the universal body like a warning from afar
Be here, be love, be free: wo re ra, wo re rosha, wa ra da

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