I Envisaged A Shaman

The days may be dark,
because the skies can be set alight by aurora borealis,
while the shaman reconciles between passed tomorrows and this.
Cast this fire with powdered antler bone,
wrapped in a reindeer,
warmed by a colossal flame burning the sky clear.
The shaman of my colder dreams,
dances by the burning pine that is no pyre,
but mere flame, with no mystique, a simple fire.
The wizardry is in the dance,
the magic pure gyromacy,
as the shaman twirls between the flame of wisdom
and snow of absurdity.

He encircles the Arctic Circle.
His flames tell of times before,
berries bore kings from the marshes,
before ice was fashioned to form structured arches,
and beyond the snow all time passes.
He summons a feverish dream,
that speaks of a home for heroes,
before our folk traded our poetry for foreign prose,
and this winter began,
while the darkness comes an hour after the sun just rose.

By JPV

Copyright March 2006