THE
HARSHNESS OF THE LAND
A land once so beautiful
Brimming with life
Brimming with gold
The mountains
Snowcapped mountains
Way in the distance
The rivers and streams
Rushing, rushing
Here and there
Always running
Never stopping
Never for one moment
I stand back
Watch and see
The glory
The honour
The victories
Here I stand
And elder
Watching on the edge
Here it is cold
Harsh
Barren
Nothing growing
Nothing being sown
What is it waiting for?
The Seasons to begin
Here in the shadows
The shade
Where there is no sun
Except for a grey, grey sky
Above
The land below grey, grey
Like the bark on the trees
Snow, snow everywhere
Coldest of colds
Bitterly, bitterly cold
Raw so raw
There can be no more
We wait
We wait and see
We watch and see
Will this land be ours and free?
Our ancestors
Will rejoice
Once more
© Teresa Joseph Franklin
24th August 2012
All Rights Reserved
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