Inuit Silence

The lake freezes over as the snow falls deeper, Tiny white stars that drift tenderly from up high. The heavens steal sacred crystals from their keeper, Like silver so delicately plucked from the sky. The horizon disappears in the dark of night, Sudden lights glow ahead in the white man's village. Disrupting the serenity and quiet might Of brother wolves and those of similar image. The calls of my kin in the distance do stir me, Eagles beckon and the wake of dogsleds begin. The drums in the coldness and young children still plea, In tune with the harmony of the wild wind. Heart beating to the sound of the wind I stand still, Beneath this ice is an ecosystem untouched. The pulse through my feet flow to the beat of the hill, And this earth in its axis seems trapped, almost clutched. I turn from the village to meet the horizon, So slowly it yields to mountains that can't be reached. Walking the silent air to obtain the bison, The tall limitless summits will never be breached. Ice marries the crisp air as night covers the sun, And so six months of quiet and stillness commence. Wind blows through the vastness and takes man's shame with it. Stand still and at peace with this Inuit silence.