The Cliffs shall call

Beneath
the heavens’ gray embrace
Where winds of sorrow
carve the space
The Cliffs of Moher
rise austere
A throne where silence
claims the seer
Their jagged edges
cold and vast
Hold whispers
of the lives that passed
Each soul that leaned
to meet the gale
To glimpse
below the ocean’s veil
And there
where earth and sky collide
Where time itself dares
not reside
A perfect death
seems softly sown
A plunge into the great unknown
No cries
no chains to hold me fast
No echoes
of the shadowed past
Just wind and wave
a final breath
A quiet fall
a lover’s death
I’d join
the murmurs of the sea
Its ancient hymn enfolding me
To drift with tides
to ebb and flow
To leave this weighted world
below
The cliffs shall call
their song so sweet
A melody
where fate may meet
For in their grasp
there is release
A fleeting fall
eternal peace
Would Yeats have dreamed
of such an end?
Where sea and rock
and spirits blend?
I hear the call
its mournful tone
And long to make
that leap my own