T H E E N D C O M M U N E

THE BOREAL NIGHT
    a homage to the taiga

pine, spruce, larch ---
be my witness
as i lead this pack of wolves
across the taiga of existentialism;
i am the biome of conflicting identities;
my winters are harsh, my summers, mild:
i am the earth ---
i am its plains, its forests, its rivers,
on which we graze, hunt, and drink;
i am the oldest of the conifers, the fir of might and age,
i am the sad, forgotten spirit, the looming apparition,
the boreal winds, the storms of ice, the murky sea,
the hoarfrost in the foliage of pines ---
i am the spectre over moors at night, wailing the lost love,
and when i dream,
i dream polewards, and in saudade...
boreal night, lull me to sleep ---
i can hear the ambience of the Östersjö waves...