BLOOD CALLS:

 Whipped from mother´s arms in cold hospital halls,

Gone in infant confusion, but to me your blood calls,

Gone brother, sister, gone the father & the mother,

Separated by cruel life, I cannot blame any another.

I hear within the drum & its constant thumping beat,

I hear upon ancient earth, in its hard & stamping feet,

I hear on the breeze of harps, your voice´s gentle strum,

And deep within my soul, I hear your soft & wailing hum.

Thor yells your errant name in his thundered angry pain,

Down my cheeks I taste your tears in bitter weeping rain,

Your eyes shine from the stars & your smile is in the sun,

I search this earth & I so know, I´ll find you one day my son.

As bubbling water rushes, cascades in iced cold waterfalls,

I hear your voice reaching me, as far as the high eagle calls,

My blood´s calling to your blood, mingling & blending as one,

As intended, river & ocean melding, beneath beneficent sun.