the North holds

you belong to this land now

your roots burrowing deep

in the frosty northern soil

its grip never loosening

once it has claimed you

you can leave for a while

but you're tethered so tightly

you'll soon feel the pull


you have birch sap for blood

your lips blueberry-stained

here you will flourish

among the softness of moss

the wilderness raw at your doorstep

quiet magic filling the air

the cold soothing your soul

as you rest like lichen

one with the earth

posts

© coldscars