The Edge

You’ll find me, dancing 
Through the cycle of the seasons,
Between the salt-laced fold of oceans
At the edge of Reason’s grip 

Where in the gentle darkness;
Beside the flames licking the firewood 
A whisper grows, a yearning turns
The blood to honeyed-wine

Then I’ll seek the giddy silence
That spikes the music, with its notes
Of melting snow, begging
For the burnt touch of the stars

Published by Cara Amy Goldthorpe

Entrepreneur, earth warrior, storyteller and lawyer, with a mission to promote ways of living harmoniously on this planet.

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