son of man

sleep...
beneath the lake
of llyn llyndaw
in the clwyddian range
i hear the crash of falling rocks
and the voice of an old friend
a cry of - 'Hello...!'
sounds across the valley
from glaslyn to llyn teryn
gareth wakes,
'Shane!' he whispers -
'you're talking in your sleep again...'
 - 'sorry.'
i lie upon my belly
with an eye to the sky above
when a satellite shoots over the earth
like the star gareth's wishing on
but it's the words
of the majestic mountain
sacred symbol of timeless wisdom
that has captured my thoughts
imagination and awe
on snowdon
i hear the voice of sweet Jesus.