Poetry
I am

I am

I am

Beneath the ground my furnace rages –
A seething cauldron of molten rock,
of liquid ore.
A sleeping giant – a living time-bomb.
A dangerous enemy – don’t wake me!
Don’t wake me!
I am
A volcano.

In winter I flow beneath a blanket of ice,
hidden from view, a secret force.
In summer my pure treasure is freed.
A crystal clear gift.
To serve my land, to feed my falls.
I flow again. I am free.
I am
A river.

When it’s cold, I dance.
When it’s clear, I dance.
A mirage of pink, jagged fingers of green.
Together we dance
for the people of the North;
our audience entranced.
We are
The Northern Lights.

For centuries I have served them.
I offer my people my bounty, my wonders.
My nature is endless;
my creation continuous.
Yet they harness me, rape me, take my power from me!
Often I shake in anger – let me be free!
Let me be free!
I am
Iceland.