I am wondrous
of the blue
that creeps
into the sky
at dawn
when all eyes are on the sun
but I am not
as others are
but you

I look for clouds
deep rolling clouds
rain giving clouds
that make the
field crops grow
and gardens bloom
as robins in
my garden sing
and tussle

but robins are not
with me now nor garden safe
for I journey
in my fathers' footsteps
many centuries old
I am going to the land
where land
and sea and sky
are one transient dome

the train heads north 
relentlessly
towns fade away as 
turpen tall
church spires and
towers make the
skyscape edge
with jagged perpendicular lines
the only compass points to heaven

the train stops
beside the sea
lines neat and mellow houses
end in fields squared by
green and mossy ditches
rooks ravens rabbits rats
a chequer board of cows
this must be 
it?