There is a magic
To movement
Through the waters
Of a narrow channel
Banked by mountains
And Islands
In the gathering darkness
To movement
Through the waters
Of a narrow channel
Banked by mountains
And Islands
In the gathering darkness
Smoke on smoke
Thickens, on the rise
Islands and mountains
Fading, in steps of blues and tourquoise
So climb up
Up up up
Where the eagles soar
And become like a god
Surveying all below