Be Found In Elevations High Poem by Mark Heathcote

Drop anchor and step ashore
Leave drifting and explore
The firmaments that no more
Arch vaults or expand the sky.

Conceive to journey on by
Further, then I dare to espy.
Be found in elevations high
Above what domed birds fly.

Separate, water from water
The world is not our oyster.
Any more than deaths a vapour
A tone of voice is shriller.

Even then these heavenly birds
Oceanic; conceived words
Be the fruit that in vineyards
Twine, climb above the goatherds.