I live,
Anely as pairt o this braid lan,
This knottit neive o cliff an furlin gull
Staunin atween the neep parks an the sea.

I luik,
Anely as pairt o the raven lift,
Gadhelic widden-dreme,
O a tummelt starn,
Washed in on a snell, cauld ocean,
Fashed wi fish, a plethora o storm.

I am becam
A beaker o monie ferlies.
Born as teem's the grave,
I hae grown tae a wummin's skin,
A cave o images,
A chalice o dark bog.

Ingaitherer o stane an the aybydan win;
I am thirled tae the North.

I wad be
Gleg as a gad.
I wad streetch me, simmer-swift,
As a rinnin deer
Fetchin a scoop o wirds,
Fillin wi praise,
The fairm-howes lyin near
Close us a pulse.

Sae, tae that en, I wad bend
My hunter's wing frae the lanely corrie,
Hover abeen the yird, the cloud, the faem —
The mirl o the yet-tae-cam
An the aa-that's-gaen...
Bedded wi'in ma grain
Is the teuchit's wheep,
The hoodie's eerie mane,
An in ma bluid,
The green, primordial dulse.