The ice is ancient, deep and still,
Beneath the shadow of the hill.
A river frozen in its place,
With cold and monumental grace.
It groans and cracks beneath the sun,
Before the melting has begun.
A fragment of the frozen past,
That wasn’t ever built to last.
Fascinated by the brilliant northern lights and the rich mythology of nature, Mia writes atmospheric, enchanting poetry. Her work often feels like a modern fairy tale, weaving themes of magic, destiny, and the deep mysteries...
The rocks are sharp, the winding trail,Where legendary heroes fail.The mist obscures the sudden drop,I do not dare...
The sky is dancing green and blue,A magical and shifting hue.The solar winds ignite the night,With pure, celestial,...