Tod-Flam

by Donald Adamson

There are monie wuirds for it:
heivenly dauncers, nordern lichts,
aurora borealis, or aroon the bit
whaur A bide, tod-flam –
 
a flichterin in the mirk,
sib tae a wild craitur
in a mell-moorin, shakin its fur free
o clingin glister,
splairgin skinklin skelvies tae the lift.
 
A think o the first Sámi fowk,
hou thay wuid hae seen it ¬
like some greit gawsie baist
heizin its michty mane
abuin the horizon,
pawtin yin wey, yon wey, gluntin oot
a bleeze o colour.
 
In ma mind A’m yin o thaim,
kennin a truth aboot universe
an the pooers that hale us efter thaim
like a reindeer harlin a slipe
by the licht o sterns created
lang, lang afore oor warld wis born.