The minster of memory,
a dell within a dark place.
Lichened rock, wind eroded.
Not sad, melancholy, haunted.
Distant hills, wraithed by mist.
Solemn evening, close of play.

Think again, this is now.

The breeze fails, smoke in the vale.
Green tracks turn black,
rock rived earth, snaggle bracken.
Photograph it.
Create a now.
Seal time in an instant.
Hold it precious.

Think of it as now.

Do we lose our way, when the light fades?
Do we travel the same path, cross the river?
Do we hunt for something lost?
Do you hear the voices, past?

Think again, it is now.

Orison;
Let it be, complete, eternal.
Let it stay, as was, so shall it be.
Remain as is, as ere, as ever.
The moor, this place, and me.

Think again, this is now.

Think again, this is not now.

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