Suddenly above the fields you’re pouring
Pure joy in a shower of bubbles,
Lacing the spring with the blue thread of summer.
You’re the warmth of the sun in a song.
You’re light spun to a fine filament;
Sun on a spider-thread –
That delicate.
You’re the lift and balance the soul feels,
The terrible, tremulous, uncertain thrill of it –
You’re all the music the heart needs,
Full of its sudden fall, silent fields.

from The Lost Music (Bloodaxe, 1996), © Katrina Porteous 1996, used by permission of the author and the publisher.

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