“… many peculiar places can hold your mind and your soul tightly and will not let them go … like the Isle of Skye. There are people who discover Skye and will not leave, and even for those of us who do leave, the misty island haunts us and holds us in its own way. It is where I am happiest and where I am most alone.”
– Neil Gaiman
It’s one of those passages that “hold my mind and soul tightly, in a peculiar way”, and compel me to write some kind of free form poetry that only makes sense to me. This is my latest poem.
My Isle of Skye
By Ada Ireland
My dream takes me to the Isle of Skye,
A place of peculiar beauty and soul touching magic.
I step on this land for the first time in my life
Yet my heart knows I belong here.
I’m not a mere stranger. I even have my own path.
A warm mist swirls around me,
And covers my sight,
So I let my heart guide me,
And I follow my path.
It’s a trip for the senses, not for reason or thought,
It’s a discovery of scents and intoxicating feelings,
Of mind numbing words and earth shattering touch.
Every step that I’m taking changes me inside out,
Yet I follow my heart. I stay on my path.
My heart starts beating faster
And the mist falls apart,
I can see clearly now,
But what I am looking at?
There’s someone coming towards me,
A stranger at first, a friend two steps closer, and a lover two steps closer than that.
And my soul knows your soul before a single word is spoken
You reach out your hand to me and sigh while you whisper,
“You’re here … at last…”
I wake up and find myself on the Isle of Skye,
A place full of beauty but no soul touching magic.
There’s no warm mist, no path just for my senses,
There’s only a cold sun, a clear mind, and thinking aplenty.
I’m all alone walking in foreign places,
So I turn around to find my way home,
But my heart rebels and then starts beating faster,
A warm mist descends over me out of nowhere,
And I hear a familiar whisper, “You’re here … at last …”