St. Andrew was Here -
His bones cross the edge
Of rock face, drifting
Apostle, once,
They carried him
From the holy east
To the ends of earth,
Up the North Sea,
Where babies now learn to swim
In soft low waters,
Another celestial wash ashore,
That one shell, swaddled,
After the fire,
Gone to Edinburgh -
Earth bound again, rightly,
Give it a name, this place,
With breath of universe
In each wave released,
A cloud full pillow tide,
Later lie awake in shifting sands,
Where the rain still falls,
Every drop counting
Cathedrals, built here,
Crumbled like soft flesh,
Now hollow brick and stack,
Schools of fish and men
Have caught the golden
Number of his once
White star thread
Of blood, now bells and wind
Ring out in this chosen place,
all his, a saltire of sky
Landed.