Wildness. Poem by PAUL COLVIN

The scent of man has long since gone but ghosts from Highlands past
Stand guard upon its gateway, their eerie shadows cast
I feel them walk beside me, see eyes in every tree
They guard it like their Holy Grail, they set this Scotland free.

Uncontrolled, undisciplined, this uncultivated land
I taste its living wilderness, put there by God's command
Unrestrained and desolate witha beauty all its own
A magic burns inside me, I know I'm not alone.

Gushing rivers, salmon leaps, the monarch of the glen
Where eagles fly and ospreys soar beyond the reach of men
And the rights of men mean nothing for nature here is King
The wildness in this land of mine is such a wondrous thing.

Dark unruly mountains loom, piercing through grey skies
Sharp and cold and sinister, like soldiers in disguise
By braes of purple heather and deepest grassy glens
Where bracken hangs on hillsides adorned by lushest ferns.

In winter it's so cold and bare, an unforgiving scene
With elements so fierce and raw, described by some, obscene
But it steals the breath inside me and stops my very heart
What lies before, they cannot paint, this precious work of art.

Wild black nights where none can see, are filled with hidden noises
But are these the calls of night time or dead clansmen's deathly voices?
From aviemore to Braemar, from the Feshie to the Dee
So wild and yet so beautiful, that's nature's tapestry.