To the heights and the furthest of the Northeast parts
in the lowest of areas where the Whin Sill carves
an igneous path through the national park,
the River will flow till it turns on its arc;

through the long and the far, past the rocks on the rocks,
it will turn and then turn through seizure and shock
by the twisting of fissures, but not think to stop
till everything meets in one vertical drop.

And even the stone at the top pulls its weight
when worn away under, lattices, breaks,
to drag the fall backwards, holding to the flow
so the heavy falls under to the sediment below.

Notice this shift in the whole of the stone,
as sharp as it gets while reaching the point
where lands flatten out and the waters head north:
the shape and the sound in the height of the force.