This cold landscape bellows,
Blowing endlessly
With a high pitched wallow
And I am not a voice in it.
No animated gust of white dust,
No longing wave of seed heads bobbing,
No tall tree, naked and exposed
Arms wide open
Awaiting for the sun.
This cold landscape bellows,
And I sit in isolation
Completely enveloped
By a drawn sensation.
Dampness smouldering the fire
As snow melts to ice I sit upon,
And the red tinge of frozen willows
Keeps this glowing fire
I have not set.
Sprouts
Anxiously awaiting
Frozen
I awoke to find the land had changed
A gentle blanket had settled down
Covering what I could see
Sleeping in the trees.
Clouds had moved away and off
Left the day with a blue sky
One that reflected white;
Brightness hard to see.
So far there were no footsteps
Hiding all that humans had chose to leave,
This left deep peace upon my mind
Setting my regret for once free.
Blinding sun
Reflecting snow
Cloudless sky
With my wind I have fallen in
With little tufts of grass
Whom stand so brave and tall
Against the snow, so cold.
I have blown across the whitescape
As light shades of brown
As dirt and ice that rip apart
The crisp memory of sun.
So goes the traces of my finger
Deep within the hallow
Sunken to my melting cheek bone
That grips against the snow.
So goes the sweet angel of my memory
Who has left me like a broken fire
That I have no more kindling for
Though I remember every splinter
That has sunken to my soul.
Blow me away.
Take me down a wild river
To let me float free
And with my branch
Through windy peaks,
Let the snow
Be upon my heart
As we move about the Alps.
Let me rock and sway and fall
Tumble as a dried up weed,
Feel me, lifeless,
Slip away from grip
So that I may be the reason
Listless and void
Blown away
And gone.
For you, little snow bird
Wings and flight so white
I watch you fly amidst your flock
So jagged yet so spry
May your Winter be met with warmth
A nest so tenderly Laid
To find your spring so enchanting
As life begins again.
What have I lost here?
I see snow laid down
Tufts of grass escaping
But blowing madly, violently.
Moments ago it felt complete
As sun’s low and golden hues
Touched my trodden face.
Closed in by enemies
I had forgot to invite
The game of envy inside
Had I known the weather
Would be beating down so low.
I spoke to you before the call came
Before wind swept the landscape
As barren as the cold snow felt.
I listened to you inside my soul
Open hands and an open heart
Hearing your words,
Your doubly whispered thoughts
Detailed glances
And hands that held a universe of emotions.
I waited for your touch
Like a tall Spruce tree waits out Winter,
Bowing at engagements,
Reflexing against the pressure,
Silently bearing the mounting
Depth of moonlight and dropping temperature
With a full and well understanding
That with it shall come its anti.
It’s snow falling
To the ground
Big and little flakes
Catching my eyes
Falling effortlessly
Whimsically
And then disappearing
Into the great white
That’s been slowly descending
Upon the green
And varying degrees
Of yellowing decay
We loved in Autumn.
