Northern Lights
There’s a northernmost home
within the icy peninsula
reflecting our cerebral landscapes
Pure flowing waters into your palms
worshipping your lips and vitalizing
your lungs, breathing in the crisp air
Led by the lights, a path carved
with your intuitive torch
A misty, winter morning it was
Breaking yolk to candlelight
Walnut dough rising in the wood stove,
making the friendly music
Snow fluttering into your hair
Drinking in the glassy, blue lakes
Gazing above to the cackling sparks in the midday sky
There is a journey travelers dance to bring in the sun
reigning the mountains
Letting out a howl that winds the goshawk’s flight
