One moorland moment

Curlew and Lapwing circle
Their haunting cries
Caught on a gentle breeze
Clouds skip past hurriedly
To darken other skies
Skylark rise from heather
Grouse busily call out
Up here the sky commands
Up here is still, quiet, peace
Up here we lay on rough grass
Caressed by moorlands touch
We embrace the being
As being
In these moments
is everything