Anither shore

I see anither shore as yet unkent
and yet anither hinterland tae wander
and traivel it I wull…..expecting little
Aye….but that wull be enough tae satisfy my wants
fur they are fewer than afore….
afore….when aw things war possible
Sae I must mak mysel ready
for the task aheid….
tak inventory and gie proper worth tae aw that I still possess
unburden mysel’….thraw aff the wecht o’ bygane mistakes an’ regrets
fatal as they are tae new-born hopes and dreams…
mairch forrit and sairch…like some salt-crusted Mariner
lusting fur land….een shairpit fur the glint
o’ sunshine sparkling oan yet anither golden Dome…
wha kens whit treasures or dangers lie inby
and shoud this journey be ma last….then whit o’ it?
There kin be nae ending for such as we….only a re-jining,
a returning tae whit we wance war…….
fur we are made fae the stuff of stars….and wull persist.

George White 2021