THE WESTERN EDGE

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Inspired by ‘ A Song Among the Stones’ by Kenneth Steven

(S.Miller/E.Burton - PRS/MCPS)

 

I walked with my father here many years ago

Slow and long in evensong, faith will find us here

Lead me to the shoreline where the dead seas hold no tide

In this worn out tower I’ve found my place to hide

 

Women's voices darkening the high Novembered air

Spinning songs carried high above the wild and heavy storm

Bruised skies give no shelter, still we journey on

Rocked by sleep to reach the northern soil

 

Chorus

A song among the stones

It’s better that you know

the bones of winter lay along the western edge

His prayers they have grown

Tell us a story of your own

 

Dreaming of a fevered sea song, prints woven in the light

Worn away by the restlessness, waiting for a sign

Lost in empty spaces in the layering of the walls

The rise and fall of the embers’ glow echoed in the hall

 

Chorus

 

Silver slowly rises over Iona’s distant shore

The silence of the waiting sons at the heart of these sea roads

Scattered on the turning fields by the singing winds

Remember all the faces of those who journey on

 

Chorus

© Siobhan Miller