Travelling back through the centuries
past standing stones
and hollow hungry mounds,
we arrive at Yesnaby,
where cliffs and castles
fall into the sea,
waves crash recklessly in
eating away at what is unseen,
giving us no warning
that soon we will be crashing too
struck down by a mystery,
inches from all those Viking footprints,
broken bones and bruising on the horizon
and all over the island
But that unpredictable beauty lingers
as my eyes close
just for a second
until the real world breaks through
And still I remember Yesnaby
where as usual I did not go far enough
and so missed the glory of it all
not once but twice
The glory is still there, though,
a thousand miles and a few yards away,
waiting for me