A Tundra Poem

Tundra Dance

Tundra cotton in fall fashion,
A late August romance.
Light of day stubborn to arouse,
Winter welcomes September.
While the great flocks aloft bid farewell,
Alongside, their young grown bold,
to hold on their very own.

The green grass of summer passing,
does so surrender this empire without haste.
Its role to nourish others so complete.
While a sabotage like frost makes an appearance.
An overnight sensation redeems,
This apocalyptic showdown.
Instilling an inviting slowdown.

Tundra goes quiet and still.
Where only swans maintain a thrill.
Maybe a crazy loon on the loose.
Remnants of the massive migration,
Discovered in bog like hieroglyphics.
Telling a great story, once again.
Repeated, time after time after....

But all is not surrendered, yet.
By this invasion of the absolute.

As the tundra cotton arises to its prime.
Almighty to this lonesome observer.
And thus a greater show unfolds,
Reserved for a captive audience.

Morning thermals clash,
awakening all that remains upon the barren.
Wind blown eddies caress the moment.
Appears before me a great symphony,
Oh spectacular these movements.
Granted upon land, of sea, of air.
The tundra cotton takes to share,
its dream of maturity.

A zillion tiny dancers abound.
Wherein virgin white clusters in love,
Wave praise to the heaven above.
From sea to shining sea.
Capturing all attention.
Age old chants of the nomads resound.

Creator gives breath this desire of life’s lust.
Festivities continue, unabated at no cost.
Only to fall silent,
when the light of day,
does whither away.
But come the next day, more of the same.
A brilliant choreography,
in honor of seasonal life.

Holding on for dear life,
The white seeds of life new.
Rehearsed to release for dearest life.
Commencing a falsehood white storm,
Fooling the beholder, as if Snow White reigns.
But it is freedom at last,
for a next generation to come.
This dance advances the tundra cotton.
From sea to shining sea.

And each day passing,
this desire falls short,
As all good things come to pass.
But this symphony graduates with grandeur,
And so secretly amusing to me.
This dance of the Tundra Tussock!

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