Land Amid the Streams

A land amid the streams. Oh, legacy
of ice, how gently tug your meadows, pull
your forests, summon so persistently
your seas–a history of whales and wool, 
plus, one or two of mine: of learning how
to swim and be alone; of growing love
inside a hollow. Take me in. Please, plow
me into cliff and clay, the soil, the cove.
I often don’t know where I should return
to. Blood and background, not to mention salt,
and all around you sea and sky, they burn.
It matters that you slow the time, exalt
the seasons, self-reliance, warm these bones.
An ever-present beacon, pointing home.