Pure as Snow (Trails of the Winter Storm) - Mono

Under the cold weight of snow, the earth will finally hibernate.

It is the miracle of winter.

Flakes fall as if they were sent to pause time

before the seasons begin again.

Some are clumsy, some are graceful,

but each knows its landing place on the earth

The only movement here is that of a young woman searching through the braided

pine branches for an opening.

Her white dress is camouflaged against the snow.

Lost in this dream chamber, she moves through the white powder,

running her hands through it to awaken her memory

Parting the branches, she follows an open path cleared before her,

swerving its way to a stone bridge adorned with icicles.

Someone is waiting

for her there, a gray figure, a stranger, watching her through the shower of

white between them.

They are uncertain of why they have come but they both long

to be here.

Although she cannot recognize his face, she knows him somehow.

As they stand together, a single ray of light grows from behind,

wrapping them in its warmth until they dissipate into it.

When she awakes,

a cloud of winter air still floats above her.

It was just a dream again

On this morning, a man awakes from the same dream, one that reoccurred so often

that he felt incomplete without it at times.

It haunted him.

When his eyes

closed, her face still appeared before him, but not one that he could recognize

His oldest memory was of being an infant sitting before his family,

unable to speak or walk on his own.

He cried for days and nights,

his small fists clenched, until one day he couldn’t remember why he was so sad

anymore.

Along with the other children, he learned to laugh and run again.

This became his new life, and everything before then seemed no longer his

The man watches swelling clouds from his window and cannot help but anticipate

the arrival of something today.

Bodies bustle their way past him as he sits

outdoors, but they are like shadows murmuring to one another.

They float by

unnoticed as his eyes only fall upon a young woman, dressed in white,

who stands behind the crowd.

He feels comforted, almost relieved by the sight

of her, and longs to be near her

Their eyes lock, a strange longing glance that could not be severed by anything

at that moment.

Her eyes are like two deep wells of stories, perhaps one he may

have heard before.

They appear dewy, prepared to overflow

In the distance, church bells ring.

The humming noise and motion of the world

seep back in to disturb their peace.

If she is a mirage, she will disappear

soon, he thinks.

But she remains there, motionless.

This time is not a dream

With a final glance at him, the woman slowly vanishes into the sea of bodies.

A steady downpour of snow ripples in the wind until he cannot see anything but

the movement of white.

Chaotic, like a surge of emotion, and yet pure, white,

and delicate, the snowstorm remains an enigma to him.

As he tastes the

snowfall, he sees a single ray of light piercing through a cloud,

and he cannot help but smile