Now, to a darker one…
Have you chosen your place of death?
Is it in the shade of blossoms,
where the
wind
blows to carry words
no
one will
know? Or
is it outside a
lighthouse – where
whiteness stands so
close to
gold,
where
maalies* glide,
the great wild bairn*
free and
shameless?
Now, in
the
eye of
the compass,
you see the meaning of
your birth –
your talisman
in between breasts,
the
tattoo of
staves in circles;
what’s left of
It lives inside you,
deep inside
the womb of the dead, and
yet you need me
as a
guide – as
no one points to
their last
breath.
Notes:
(From Shetland dialect)
maalies: fulmar petrels
bairn: child
© Nat Hall 2016
nordicblackbird 