My God

My God ... I’m ancient now I’m ever so old, As if I’m a story forever told. Her calls a lasting bagpiped tune, Carried upon the mist and moon. To my left the water runs deep, ‘n to my right the cliffs so steep. I walk the night with eyes that seek, Her slippery path a watery streak. The movement itself is subtle and faint. There is a sense of silent restraint. The light is dim, so I can only guess. And then a flash, my God ... my Ness!