The Rocks of Lihou stand in aged splendour.
Their lives span aeons gone and still to come.
For entertainment cosmic music orchestrated
By wind and gulls thrums on their inner ear.
For sensual pleasure Atlantic rollers pound them;
Salt spray refreshes every stony pore.
These rocks have life that one can feel, and it is this
Strange life of time unknown to Man that draws me to them
Like a magnet, quietly searching for that lost Eternity
We temporary humans find so hard to understand.
Here with their slow growing and erosion these rocks
Absorb the spirit of the land and sea and air.
And as I sit - wedged in a crevice high,
Embraced by arms of rock, beside a spring that oozes tears,
I press my cheek against rough lichen growing there,
Like the beard of some strong, stony man –
I feel their yearning too for growth and understanding.
For individuality of a kind we hope to shed in reaching God.
Each man is at a turning point on that long road
Which brought him to this time.
Free will indeed he has to chose the return route,
Which of course we see as leading on.
The rocks of Lihou with their great age
Are yet in these terms young.
They still are growing slowly, slowly to that point
Where inert matter fades so gently into life
We too can recognise. And so they draw me to them
For they long for what I am; and I in wayward searching
Find in them a landmark on that long road
Which ends where Life began.
© Sarita Armstrong 1982