The Permanent Way
The farmer working in the fields
before the sunrise,
for the far skies.
Up on the hills amid the silence
of the high moors,
down in the valleys, by the rivers
and the dry stone walls.
That is where you will find them
out there, working by the hedgerows.
In the rain and the snowfall
you'll find them
out there, high against the skyline.
In the mines and the headings
you'll find them, down there
dreaming of the daylight.
The line will hold;
the mark of man
upon the land;
reaching for the far skies.