So Far Away From The Land

So Far Away From The Land
© Surazeus
2018 12 17

The scent of fire-smoke in cold frosty air,
the shadow of morning on the frail porch,
the smoothness of white chicken eggs at dawn,
the clouds still above distant mountain peaks
reflect sweet agony of being alive
so far away from the land of our birth.

The turning wheels of wagons brought us here
over plains and hills roadless in the wind,
on sacred mission for the promised land,
though daily routine softens that old fear
as we focus on staying alive each day,
so far away from the land of our dreams.

Though the land we left is home of our hearts,
as if we had always lived there through time,
I realize some ancestor first went there,
arriving from some other place, like me,
and like me they focused on staying alive
so far away from the land of our hopes.

How far back on that road of eager quest
must I regress in flash of spinning time
to find the land where we first woke from dream
and began never-ending search for home,
though we live long years somewhere staying alive
so far away from the land of our fears.

Yet we are now here in this hall of bricks,
safe haven ensconced on this plot of dirt,
indifferent structure we have made our home
where we dwell together for this short time,
and work together staying alive for now
so far away from the land of our myths.

Yet we are nowhere on vast spinning globe,
artificial home we invent from faith
that we are safe together in this haven
till natural disaster or man-made war
shatters memories into forgotten songs
so far away from the land of our death.