poem by: Bill Hamilton
Fairbanks, Alaska
The
Great Land
I didn't go north for panning
I never had dreamed about
gold
I wanted more freedom for
planning
And space for my plans to
unfold
My life had been lived as if
shackled
Bound fast by traditions and
style
So little was left to be
tackled
My castles all fell in a
pile.
I hated to live in a huddle
Where people were crowded and
cross
Where everything stayed in a
muddle
And every man bowed to a boss
Where rotted routine became
grinding
And nothing seemed rugged or
real
Where fashions and customs
were binding
And man but a spoke in the
wheel.
I sought open space and I
found it
Far off to the north and the
west
As pure as the day god
unwound it
Where nature unfolded her
best
Broad valleys with millions
of acres
Of flowers and grasses and
game
And seas full of monsters and
breakers
And beasts that no human can
tame.
So rough and so wild yet it's
charming
From top of her mountains to
streams
Some valleys were fitted for
farming
And others as places for
dreams
She has many clear lakes and
rivers
And mountains that reach to
the sky
And raw arctic winds that
bring shivers
And clouds of wild ducks that
fly by.
In summer it's hot where it's
level
The sun shines from early
till late
But winter is cold as the
devil
And comes when you wish it
would wait
But six snowy months full of
resting
Then summer explodes in the
land
And waterfowls come home for
nesting
Exactly as nature had
planned.
Then salmon swim out of the
ocean
And battle their way up the
steams
But whether there's silence
or motion
It's never as dull as it
seems
The traps must be run when
it's frozen
There's fishing to do when
it's hot
And nature has a way of
exposin'
The man who sat down and
forgot.
She has food galore for the
stranger
Who needs what the arctic can
give
But killing for sport will
endanger
The men who hunt only to live
Though some fade away on
arrival
And starve out or freeze to
the bone
Yet follow her rules of
survival
And she will take care of her
own.
In summer her blue sky is
brighter
Her meadows are greener than
jade
Her shadows are longer but
lighter
It seems that it never could
fade
But Sol circles lower and
duller
Till noon is naught but a
glow
It shifts from a land of gay
color
To endless bleak acres of
snow.
Alaska was built for those
staying
And not for the weak and the
lame
It means
THE GREAT LAND
and I'm saying
The land has been true to its
name
No flowers on earth are so
tender
No blizzards so vicious it
seems
I love it because of its
splendor
Because its a land of
extremes.
Copyright © Bill
Hamilton "Polar Poems"
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