On the cliffs where winds do weave,
Where the ocean paints the sky,
Lies the whisper of our leave,
To the world below and high.

At dusk when all is set to blind,
The stars hang low and softly glide.
In the silent echoes we find,
The comforting stretch at heaven’s side.

As the waves dance and crests do throng,
We walk the paths the night has sung.
In nature’s strong embrace we belong,
Until the dawn our fears are flung.

• Philip Larkin