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Latvia Weeps
Author: Pondering Red

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You have danced for a thousand years.
Your long dark blue and cream coloured skirts
moving and swaying
through centuries of
songs of oppression,
invasion and depression...
Silken ribbons flying
with sun bleached braids
twirling in rhythm
to history her story our story...
The women gathered on the shores
of the Daugava River as they washed their clothes
in the shimmering blue crystal waters.
The birch trees glistened in the afternoon light,
a forest of snow white - summertime...
Children gathered golden pieces off the sun...
amber...reddish yellow...magical stone...
We built thatched cottages
and gathered stones for stronger homes.
Riga, a fortress on the Baltic Sea,
was already weeping.
We gathered dried branches
on the eve of the summer solstice
for magnificent fires...a celebration...
We sang our folk and freedom songs.
We danced for joy and we danced away
the pain of the torments of the intruders.
We helplessly foresaw dismal images of our future
in these warm soothing fires.
The crackling twigs spoke of impending disaster,
as the young girls wove flowered wreaths
of daisies and pale purple honeysuckle.
The young boys received crowns of leaves from the girls.
Playing...frolicking...rolling in the tall grasses...
delightful summers turned...
to a frightful autumn, as the red army
inched closer to the Baltic Sea.
We were hidden by the enormous waves
that carried us to foreign lands
where the landscape that welcomed us
was full of greenery and sweet scents.
Wandering families settled down on this rich soil.
Yet, their hearts and souls were still unsettled.
All the while, long slender arms and longer fingers
reached out across the vast expanse of time and sea.
These arms, stained with tears of blood
embraced the joyful sadness of our countryside.
We were comforted by the whispering hope
of our grandmothers who were calling us back,
to where we are waiting,
to where you will find peace,
to where you belong.
Come back home...

------- Author's Notes -------

Just to explain ...my grandparents came from Latvia during the Second World War to Canada and I recall many,many stories...so I wrote this based on their recollections and memory's

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