north
endless blue water
interrupted by
red and yellow stripes
running through the window
dashing across our view
unheeded
forrest capped hills
and snow capped mountains
sliced by black lines
that jump up and down
as we move on
the pale stark sky
is seen through barren branches
of trees which have forgotten leaves
in their delight of the cold
Skinny brown giants appear
every couple seconds
and the red, yellow and black stripes
join us
in our journey north
of a life well lived
immobile
resolute
fierce
the trees are not moving
they stand in agreement
of a life well lived
of a purpose understood
they are the conifers
the air breathers
the dwelling place of creatures
great and small
and they need no words
to demonstrate their fervor
their stiff backs align and
their hands wave gently as if to say
"if you know the way of the forrest,
you may come and dwell with us"
a quiet surrender
snow
is not much more
than a quiet surrender
to all that is holy.
and still.
It pleads our branches
to bend under its weight
and we surrender our strength
It carpets the earth with whiteness
in a hope to heal
the scars that have been left bare
and exposed
It's softness requires us to fall
backwards
and vigorously swing
our arms and legs
for joy
It falls with such tenderness
and ease
neither eager or reluctant
to touch down and surrender
it's reign of the sky
