Under cliffs rejoiced and ducked
Spanish lips and Catalan fists
Watched the moon grow wide
In the silent forests of the north
Felt the pure rage of Atlantic storms
Wind whipping Irish kelp
Walked endless tracks and slipped into
Forgotten villages
Found kindness in the eyes of strangers
Beyond a dozen borders
Laughed loud with Polish farmers
Drunk tequila with German schoolgirls
Fanned phosphorescence in mandalas
Kicking ripples on the stroke
Dawn in the Gotico, St. Germaine, Kreuzberg
Each precious day unique
Promises on Alpine tracks, Dutch canals,
In Galician floods
A hundred bazaars, a thousand odd cries
The gentle death of light
Breathless days through cobbled streets
In love with promise and potential
Mumbling other tongues and understanding
Proximity and belonging
Strength in this meeting of eyes,
linking of hands and unity
Strength for the weak, dispossessed,
the world beneath our feet
Whilst greasy men wave their egos
In airless rooms
We open our arms and call you sister, brother, friend.
We stand together.