The song is in the step

The song is in the step
In the warm hum of weary calves and tired limbs
In the stomp of boots over gravel,
Through wet leaves, on rocks, through heather
In the unconscious, self perpetuating repetition of the step

The song is in the air
Crisp and cold, still like ice and
Untasted by anyone but you and I
The song is in the cry of startled grouse
The swift coloured flashes of meadow birds and dragonflies
In the strange, distant bellowing of unseen beasts

The song is in the light
Changing with every breath.
Bright one moment, dark the next
In the colours that wash our trail,
Each turn a new shade, a new character revealed

The song is in the path
In the stones and in the grass
The song is in the clouds and the mist
In the heat and the chill
On the moors and in the trees
The song that sings me is in all these places
But more than that
More than any of these
The song I listen for is in your lips
That song is in your smile, your whispers, your stories,
The chain of words that binds us together
Tighter and tighter with every step.

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