LOST, BY THE SOLSTICE

Furtive from the avarice world,                                                                                

I sit on the icy peak

watching the flamboyant  Aurora Borealis

and sipping my hot chocolate, shoes boiled in water,

as the chilly wind passes by.

With zing no less than that of an explorer,

I gaze the dazzling pole star

trying to collect the freedom,

with no one to abate me in miles of range, and then,

I sense the need for amity.

You can call me an arbitrary wanderer,

sometimes irascible watching the embers

as they pop out of the small fire which is,

surprisingly an eccentric attraction for all reindeers

who are mistaking me as a moron, counting his last moments in the open.

No one but only angels know,

that I am besotted, not  covetous.

For once I was like the mad lovers by the fountain

but now I don’t feel the need to elaborate,

since I have discovered peace in loneliness.

The only sovereign I have of my past

is of primordial existence, faded love.

Now having found solitude in the white,

I put on my trilby, tighten my mittens

and continue my optimistic journey to eternity.

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AURORA BOREALIS