I met Her when I was walking up the face of Beinn Mhealaich
and all He said was, sgaoil a’ bheag.
She must have stridden around the skirts because I met Him
on my way back down on the other side of Meallach.
This time all She said was, a-mach a bàs. It seems there is
a little glint of freedom in the gentle Resurrected.
As I was going up, was He going down, or was She
going around, or is everywhere our One constancy?
Sgaoil – freedom
Bheag – small
A-mach – out
Bàs – death