For Martin, and Hugh Miller, geologist, 1802-1856
This is where my God resides
Safely embedded in deep time
Surrounded on three sides by tides;
I make my own footprints in age-old sand.
The jellyfish languish on the strand-line;
Perfectly rounded stained-glass windows
Into multicellular souls.
A darkness of basalt cradles crystals
Along shores where eternity crumbles
And remakes itself anew;
Where time is a saviour and I snatch a glimpse
Of past, present and future.
Here, under a vaulted sky,
I will close my eyes, focus in
On sea sounds and the peewits’ cry
And I will say hello and again goodbye
To those I have lost;
Whisper my regrets to those I have wronged;
And dare to hope for those I hold dear.
For this is where my God resides;
Here, beneath slanting rocks
And alongside beckoning tides.
Published in my first poetry pamphlet, In February, 2019
Bios And Links
A freelance science writer by trade, Larissa has written poetry and prose regularly since 2016. Notable publications include Northwords Now, Silk & Smoke, Green Ink Poetry, Fenacular, Black Bough Poetry Anthologies, and the Beyond the Swelkie Anthology. She had a poem shortlisted for the Janet Coats Memorial Prize 2020. Larissa is intrigued by visible and invisible boundary lines in landscapes – geological faultlines, myth and reality, edge-lines of land and sea. Based on Scotland’s east coast, she balances her writing life with bringing up her daughters. Larissa is a founder member of the Edinburgh-based writing group, Twisted::Colon.