Celtic GloryPoetry

Cry of the Dawn

I Hear the Cry of the Dawn

bryher wild gorse

I hear the cry of the dawn

I hear the cry of the dawn

Of the far flung place

Where land meets sky

I hear the cry that draws me

With no rhyme or reason or why


The cry of the wind in the heather

The tousle of gale in my hair

The laughter whipped up in my soul

By nature’s careless attire


I hear the rattle of autumn leaves

And restlessness stirs within

A lonesome bird cry caught on the wind

A wild look in that cry

bryher wild coast

I’m made for the wild place

The untamed

The unkempt

I’m made for wild passion

And fervour

I’m made but rarely get

Tide’s turning

Earth’s moaning

All’s groaning



Jesus’ returning

Come hither

Come quickly

Come Lord!