Tràighean: the Scots Gaelic word for ‘beaches’ 

The reputation of the beach
is gaelic
it has many tongues to tell
from the time of the women
now it is a hostage to steel and silicon
the flotsam and jetsam
of this barbaric age

we cannot throw our souls away
we will be no richer
if we make a stand
at this end of the world
listening to the broad Atlantic’s
slow, withdrawing roar

Bioda Roe remains king of the sea
a relative to the soul of the seal
his long basking used to fill our memory
but no longer

Now all is bare
staggering towards us a time of war and famine
the more we seek to protect our children
the more we endanger them

I see a man bending
his head as if in prayer
on Chalgaraidh Mull’s shore,
along this edge of Scotland,
on this strand
at this very edge of the world

we must give up grieving
and learn to fight again for what remains
for the time is not passed,
it is now.

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