I recently had the immense good fortune to spend a week hiking the Kungsleden trail in Swedish Lapland. Well above the arctic circle, the sense of space is almost incalculable. Everywhere is running water, clean enough to drink as it must have been in most of the world at one time.  What we have done to our poor world…

the last true place

we

infect this planet

like a virus, mutating

to fill every

niche

where

have all the giants

gone?

do

they sleep,

or were they swept away by our

speed?

are

there still fairies?

surely, there must still be

fairies?

sit

here

by this stream

on the very roof of the

world

the

midsummer sun is soft and everlasting

sleep and nonsleep are

one

listen

to the voices of the

waters

to the deep moaning of the

stones

these

are old voices

voices

that precede

words

that speak of a truth underlying

memory

this

was once your

language

the

voice of your own beating

heart

these

are the vanishing

voices

of the last true place on

earth

© J.A. Fink  2013