Russia Wild

Russia, you open like a map that won’t run out, Forests and rivers with room to breathe, no doubt. Skies that stretch past the end of the gaze, And long train miles that turn into days. Russia wild wide and still, Lakes like glass and a far off hill. From taiga green to snowline bright, You hold the world in quiet light. Lake Baikal deep and clear, A blue so calm it pulls you near. Altai mountains clean air, high ground, Where silence feels like a soothing sound. Russia wild wide and still, Lakes like glass and a far off hill. From taiga green to snowline bright, You hold the world in quiet light. Kamchatka peaks with their volcanic stone, Steam in the distance, wild and grown. Then northern forests at evening’s end, Where the last light lingers like a friend. Russia wild wide and still, Every mile is a quiet thrill. I leave with space inside my chest, Like open land can teach you rest.