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I have walked where the salmon run...
I was not looking for water that fell
When I was small I stood on top, all the highest hills.
In awe I saw, rows upon rows, of houses.
I stared across the river, range upon range of mountains.
So many people still, asleep.
I passed waterfalls on my way, to the tops of these mountains.
I was not looking for water that fell. I was looking for.
For something…
High, higher highest...
I saw how one river met the Irish Sea.
How the Atlantic met the North Sea
and the Pacific through yet another canal.
Each Mountain revealed more.
High, higher highest...
I was looking for
Far away, another ocean more seas. More mountains,
more, more, more. The Barrier Reef, the Great Divide.
A pilgrimage to the Angel Isle, the Cora Linn, Bonnington Weir and back again to
the falls of the Clyde. I was looking for,
for something…
Salmon, some people and waterfalls...
I read, I listened to the psalms and the scriptures.
I saw some people, waterfalls and even salmon,
running their own path.
A Chapel, Ben Ime. A majestic Arrochar Alp is now,
where anyone can go. To enjoy the sun, brave the midge
and wade through thigh high snow.
I was chasing something else...
I go there often to ease my mind because mountains are not built,
to dock our ships, little lost bhoys or harbour Catholic guilt.
I was never chasing waterfalls. I was chasing something else.
I was looking for something. I always had been.
I was just, looking for myself.
© jo3m 2021😉