Wandering In Byelarus

Wandering In Byelarus
© Surazeus
2018 04 10

While exploring satellite imagery
that shows meadows and woods of Byelarus
I see spirits of my curious ancestors
moving across the lush landscape of trees.

Did they travel across that fertile field
in one day, searching for somewhere to live,
then stop to live along that winding stream
for a thousand years before they moved on?

I hear shouts as they gather in the grove,
camping wagons around the sprawling oak
to unload tools and food on long wood tables,
then building fires to cook the evening feast.

I see girls and boys running to the river
to splash and play, then haul buckets of water
back to camp where women cook stew in cauldrons,
while men chop logs to build cabins for winter.

The boy by the hearth plays the lute and sings,
"Like the apple tree bears fruit that we eat
I sing tales about heroes of our clan
for we live by example of their deeds."

The girl dances twirls in twilight and sings,
"Like the river that flows from mountain caves
I dance to express the joy of my heart
when I bear the child of the boy I love."

Drinking fermented cider from round jars,
the crowd of travelers dance around bright fire,
leaping and howling as they sing weird spells
under the bright moonlight in Byelarus.

I long to trace the trails of my ancestors
and stand in every town where they once lived
to hear again the songs of their wild hearts
that still echo in the wind of old trees.