Awaiting The Second Storm
Awaiting The Second Storm
Crunching pine needles under snow-trodden boots, endless lines;
Footsteps leading nowhere, the warmth of wood shavings threading
Leafless branches, dew bursting into scattered puddles;
Soft light setting moss on fire, candles flickering but no sparks;
Fragile nature bright with hope – no thinking, just feeling.
Enveloped by wind, tethering with exhilarated gasps,
Birds flying, caught in ice-strewn blizzards; hugging oneself
In stone caves, dark with melted worries – not only demons
Can enjoy the warmth of hell and the darkness of shadows.
Once again, we are lost in emotion and nothing but being alive can sustain this joy.