Pure white snow clings to each
branch of the pines,
They shimmer like diamonds in the winter breeze,
Icy cold air blows with reckless abandon through the forest,
Causing the snow to shake free from its branches,
Fluttering ever so softly to the ground,
Dark-eyed Junco's follow the drifting snow,
To frolic about in the icy world below.
The golden sky reflects off of the frozen tundra,
I sit and recline, watching nature do her work,
Left in awe by the beauty and wonder of much-maligned winter,
Wondering if she may be the most beautiful of all.
Against cutting cold through my parkas fold,
I moved toward the mountain’s peak,
Walking the trail through snow and hail,
Finally, I was closing in.
I reached the top,
And came to a stop,
Above the world, it seemed,
Waves of clouds flowed over the snow-covered trees.
The fading light was magic to the soul,
Pinks and blues, and all manner of warm hues,
As the snow gently fell.
The last sliver of light,
Gave way to night,
And that mountain held me like a spell.
Then a star shining near and far,
Burned through the snow and fog,
It settled there, and I couldn’t help but stare,
As the night rolled on.
Finally, I began my descent from this place of yore,
Thinking of wonders and praise,
And I watched light burn through the dark of night,
As it has for many days.
The gentle morning breeze ruffled the tops of the barren trees,
Cold Winter air filled the sky,
But on this day, life was filled with a sort of ease,
On I marched, crunching through leaves and letting out a gentle sigh.
I reached the end of the path,
And went to turn back,
Then out of the blue shot a goose filled with turbid wrath,
He wailed at me for what seemed a day and compassion he seemed to lack.
My gentle ease from the winter breeze was gone in a flash,
Knowing full well the nipping I was in for; I took off in a dash,
Amid my jaunt, I lost an icy step and fell into the lake with a splash.
I swam to the shore; the beast was gone,
And I let out a much-needed laugh,
The sun began to rise, and I delighted in the sight of the dawn,
I watched the pink hue from the newborn sun and forgot all about my gaffe,
Nature in her beauty even graced me with the presence of a floating swan,
Finally, I began my way back heart filled but body in much need of a bath.
A crisp breeze dances off the branches of the mighty ash,
A cool breath from the heavens above,
Descending down to the rushing river below,
Cooling the tempers of the passers-by.
Where they have come from, passions soar,
Like a hot August day,
Overripe with the heat of summer,
As they walk, that feeling fades,
And the fresh breeze of autumn takes hold,
That cool cleansing clarity overtakes them,
And they follow the river as it rushes on.