Walking Dreams Poem by William Barton

A damp and dreary day for walking;
Still and cold with fine rain falling.
Mist swirls round shadowy barns,
hiding walls, fields and fell side.

Along the path, a full-flowing stream
Crashes under a narrow stone bridge.
Endless rocky steps struggle upwards.
Lost in fog and spray, an unseen torrent.

Inch by inch, the breeze begins to shred the mist.
Suspicions of warmth and brightness assume
the certainty of daylight, warmth and colour,
revealing the rich panoply of high peaks.

Sometimes in dreams, out of the mists
of time and sleep, we too rejoice to walk
in bright sunlight with much-loved faces
for a brief and blessed reunion.

(March 2012)