Pristine Highlands Of Iceland

Pristine Highlands Of Iceland
© Surazeus
2018 10 20

Sun glitters bright over vast river valley
that shimmers with ancient pre-human beauty
so awe-inspiring in strange majesty
that even evil devils walk its landscape
amazed at rugged wild of paradise.

Harsh wind cold as ice from mountain slopes
comforts my heart as I cling to the cliff
of gray granite infinity where wisdom
meditates through angst of boundless desire,
dizzy above valley of shining streams.

The first person who walked the hills of Iceland
must have thought they found the land of the gods
who manifest fleet spirit of their souls
in flashing droplets of high waterfalls
which gush from cracked heart of infinite truth.

No other place on Earth can be my home
except this hollow cavern in steep cliff
where all the roundness of our spinning world
embraces wingless hope of my wild mind
which leaps on gusts of words to catch lost time.

My heart expresses silver flowing river
in wordless stream of ancient arcane wisdom
that splits wide mountains molded by volcanoes
to weave wind-shattered peaks in naked heaven
so lonely I become the universe.

Flashing river of my heart splits the world
deeper than the canyon of howling echoes
through endless quest to find heart of the world
and dream how starlight wove its spinning core
from jagged strings of supernatural rays.

Alone in weird pristine highlands of Iceland
I become the sunlight flashing ray wings
to soar along bright river of my heart
so deep into excessive angst of love
that I become the first tree to sprout fruit.

Each rumpled contour of this naked valley
reflects strange landscape of my rain-soaked brain
where paradise remains forever fertile
to sustain hungry souls in clumsy bodies
when we dance with grace along shining river.