Heathen

A breath of fresh air
Goes straight to my head.
Wild scents, sharp sounds
Not muffled with snow.
The shaman has won.
Dark shadows have fled.
Drums beat, bare feet,
The sky is aglow.

Spin, sing
Hymns to spring.
Step into the
Reviving stream.

I'm heathen when I
Am brimful with sun.
I spill my joy,
Add fuel to heat.
In ritual dance
I whirl and I run
Arms spread, ahead.
It's life that I greet.

Spin, sing
Hymns to spring.
Step into the
Reviving stream.

by Julia Klimenova

Other poems of KLIMENOVA (34)

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