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Awaiting The Second Storm

Awaiting The Second Storm

1 min
220


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. 



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