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When Iceland rose majestically,
  A volcanic isle, born of the sea.
  This land, that continents divide,
  A place where fire and ice reside
  And Norsemens sagas, too were born.
  Goddess Aurora, brings the dawn,
  Thor is thunder, God of war,
  Odin seeks wisdom it's folklore.
  A pagan faith forever blind,
  Nature is savage,sometimes kind.
  Those cold North winds began to blow,
  And wintertime delivers snow.
  An idyll village by a stream,
  Resplendent in a poet's dream.
  Aurora dances through the night,
  Fantastic bands of coloured light.
  A blizzard came, the snow lay deep,
  The mountain slope began to creep,
  With noise like thunder from a gun,
  An avalanche was on the run.
  A mighty force, it's rushing sound,
  Engulfing everything around.
  The village now is buried deep,
  For rescuers , no time to weep.
  Where do they search beneath the snow,
  No landmarks; so, how do they know?
  Nature has shown her savage face,
  This avalanche, her fall from grace.
  The year was nineteen ninety five,
  And twenty souls they did survive.
  For twenty more eternal peace,
  Oh! When will nature ever cease?
  Is this the price they had to pay?
  To live in fear another day.
  On land and sea, just as before,
  Mankind and nature, still at war.
  As ancient runes, inscriptions tell,
  This land where both can never dwell.
  As legends say in every tale,
  This constant struggle to prevail.
  When man holds out an olive branch,
  Nature, becomes an avalanche.

  
               2/ 21/ 2015.

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