Top of the Ice

I won’t stop when the river will run dry
stones will grind into dust
the last volcano will cool down
the angel will cry

just searching
exploring the limit between ice and fire
dreaming to be that blind man
with reliable senses
wearing his staff of wisdom

around me all meanings merge
pathways become wild
deeper circles squeeze me
footprints grow from ancient rituals
drumbeats announce full moon
wedding songs freeze within my heart
lost inside Siberian forests
sometimes too serene

only my eyes are still running
to reach the sun in other eyes
pieces of broken mirrors
mist over

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Categories: My Poems in 2011 | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

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