More in this series: Prologue, Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10, Ch. 11, Ch. 12, Ch. 13, Ch. 14, Ch. 15, Ch. 16, Ch. 17, Ch. 18, Ch. 19, Ch. 20, Ch. 21, Ch.22, Ch. 23
The elves, Those elves of the North Pole. How do they do it? What is their trick? It seems just like magic. They’ve come to influence the world as a whole. Those elves, The elves of the North Pole.
So you want to know more
About the elves of the north
Who give such wonderful gifts
At the time we call Christmas?
There is much to tell.
Their history goes way back
And so, well…
I guess I’ll start with some basic facts.
The elves live in tunnels.
They burrow in the snow and ice
Creating quaint, yet beautiful
Networks of neighborhoods
That suit them just right.
Those down deep are known as bubbles.
Whether they live in tunnels or bubbles
They share all they need
Both when secure, or in times of trouble.
That’s what the elves know,
Share all you can.
It is who they are below.
They give and give again.
That is the way of the elves of the North Pole.
The polar herds live above,
Caraboo, bears and such.
The herds people roam
Sharing with the elves
Who built them igloos
Around the arctic and in ice shelves
Which the herds people continue
To use on the move as stations and homes.
Thus is the polar community
Of land, elves, humans and herds
Living life in the cold together
Each sharing a part in this warm unity.
But I recall a phrase
From the old polar days
When there was unrest in the North Pole.
It goes like this, and I quote,
“Level snow
Or high drifts blow”
It came to mean “come what may,”
Or something like that, one might say.
But the origin of the little phrase
Is more interesting than what it became.
It’s a tale of bravery and woes.
A story of heroes and foes.
Far too often these days
It’s reduced to one man with slaves,
But I’ll tell you more if you want to know.
“Level snow
Or high drifts blow,”
Came from a cryptic chant long ago,
Back when goblins ruled the North Pole.
That chant, or poetic rant, went like so:
“Shifts last nine to twelve hours.
But sense a shift in the powers,
A shift deep in the hardest ice.
What once was low is beginning to rise.
“The bergs are clashing.
The ice plates are crashing
From forces underneath,
The mass below unseen.
“The top will break
As the bottom makes waves
Shifting the landscape,
Breaking away.
“The North Pole shifts
In a climate of rifts
Cracking the norms,
Reshaping the forms.
“For good or for ill
Is a matter of will.
An intentional decision
Through imagination and vision.
“Level snow
Or high drifts blow,
On solid ice and afloat,
Or all drown painfully slow.
“The shift is coming in days or hours.
Shifting world of changing powers.
What will rise from the melting ice?
Is it new life or cruel demise?”
…as you can see…
There's much more to this phrase.
A question,
Or conviction,
About coming days.
A haunting warning or call maybe.
“Level snow
Or high drifts blow,”
Was used as code
For those in the know
To determine if one was friend or foe
In a movement that began to grow
Among the elves and others in the North Pole.
A secret movement to overthrow
The goblins who dominated and controlled
With hoarding and greed of resources and gold
So that they, and they alone,
Remained on top of the world with everyone else below.
One elf would whisper, “Level snow.”
One would respond, “Or high drifts blow.”
Then together, “Let it snow.”
So if you want to know
How the story goes
I’ll tell you. But it won’t be in prose
Because the history rhymes
And jumps in time.
It may get jumbled but we’ll be fine
As we try to sift
Through the legends of the North Polar Shift.