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Somewhere far up NORTH

There is a place

I call it the Land Of The White Numbers

In this strange land of sleepy wonders

Father sun is absent, well hidden

Is he unbidden, I ponder.

In this land I see lines

Inclines 

In the eternal dance 

Of contrasts

The White, the cold Numbers

Create ruptures

Structures

In The Land Of The White Numbers

The cycle of life feels so intense 

In ones drive

Walking out on the ice

I am in touch with my extended body

The Sacred ground

I feel part of my surroundings 

Somehow found 

In The Land Of The White Numbers

Sky landers

The white magic 

Represented physically

Is the foundation of shadow dancers

In this land I allow myself to be

Mesmerized by Frozen faces

Blue eyes 

Light and Angel makers

And the colorful pinky sky

As an outlander 

I walk on my extended body

The frozen lake 

On the ice there is a jagged jovial Line

Twinkiing in the light with blue, pink and white design 

The Land of White numbers

Make me dive deep

In embers

It challenges me to think wholly

And it usually happens in the months where 

The only thing one sees most days

Is an invisible treasure 

Buried in darkness and never ending nights

The lightlessness takes me deep into Myself 

To see that in this big universe

I am just a small piece of dust 

And still somehow grand

And Life roots this continuous cycle of Death and Rebirth

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