Tundra

Above the Earth, beneath the sky
The barren tundra plain

Bitten by frost, beaten by wind
Driven by howling gales

What could grow its roots on it,
What could embellish the cold rock?

A shivering shrub, gritty moss
Some stubborn lichen

Not grieving for its solitude, never shedding tears
Not keening over the emptiness

Sleeping through the winter, awakened by the spring
Drinking sunlight in the summer

Above the Earth, high in tundra
Sheltered by the northern sky