"steppe" by Michael pixie john

steppe

theres a strange young woman wandering

across the barren steppe

the wind finds nought to dampen it

and builds up speed still yet

 i silently gaze inland

from my observation post

and like a wasted warrior

i watch from the solemn coast

the woman she approaches

a distant silhouette

i discern a gleaming amulet

of silver round her neck

in her hand she holds a sceptre

a seasoned willow wand

for days she's walked the wasteland

from the tundra and beyond

why do i linger peeping

into her personal plight

enthralment so inspires me

to forget all other fate

the seawaves i hear lapping

across deserted sand

and a lone enchantress nears me

till i see her absolutely

though she doesnt see me surely

i am dreaming

yet she fears me

treading slowly as she gazes

where i stand

love's messenger is nearing 

i sense her presence here

in yearning songs  i waited long

in fevered dreams i entered scenes

and saw her elven eyes were so aglow

then northward i was walking

dropping doubt by each new day

till i noticed i was newborn

accepted i could dance

and realised these powers

are always here to know 

a seekers journey still unfolds

to bring me where i go

                                    *