Forward, forward , the snow urges the lone traveler
For the traveler is alone, and so listen she does
And the snow listens back
To all the sorrows and hardships she has had on her journey
It comforts her with it’s beauty, and she marches up up up
The pain in her knees she doesn’t feel anymore
The pain in her heart is gone
She walks up, gravel digging into her feet, but doesn’t feel it
She hasn’t a care in the world, her head in the clouds
She is hungry, it is time to reach the village on the other side
But the mountain urges on
Come, come with me, take a detour into this beautiful vastness that is the high peaks
Look at how the mountains curve and how your mind flies
When you are here with me,
The snow is cold, but the traveler feels only warmth
The intricate patterns of the snowflakes, the complexity she gets lost in. But one cannot hike a mountain forever, for it’s glory is not the whole of life. Living in the moment, she knows in her mind but not her heart. That from the cold beauty she must part
And return to herself to heal her scars properly in the village, through the hard work. Wrapping her wounds properly she knows she should. The cool breeze takes away the pain, the blood freezes in place. For the snow does not have the eyes to see the scars under her jacket, the gashes
And the grazes
And the hole in her chest
The snow has its place, its purpose, its natural existence, it cannot be removed. a force of nature. It is owned by no one
The traveler takes the detour to feel the beautiful mountain with her whole soul, She exclaims its beauty to the vastness, and her voice echoes off of the high peaks
She runs joyously through, fully herself where she believes the wicked cannot see her
The glacial lattice of icicles hanging with their beauteous mystery
Who knows how long this ice has been here, in its magical clear transparency
an unknown history of great length, strong ice hides stories
of seasons past
It is enough to slip on, for sure. But what care is there in a world that seems to have no pain?
She feels so safe
Embraced by the light, reflecting through her mind
is this healing?
But ice cannot bend, it is frozen in time
The traveler’s time moves forward
Her shouts of adoration are heard by the village, they wonder why anyone would stay
Stay so long in the cold without human necessities
The traveler feels the joy she would have had if her bones were not fractured by the evil intent of those in the past, if she had
No scars to heal. Oh if only to stay a bit longer
But the mountain rumbles. She could run but she wants to understand. What is wrong
How can the beautiful, weightless snow sound so much like thunder.
She sees only the blazing white of the healing paradise, and finds she cannot move her feet
oh, but I can dig them out. This will pass and I will revel in the magnificent endless patterns
The patterns of the glassy, cloudless, pure, forever falling snow
But snow doesn’t fall forever, and sometimes snow
Will burry you
Alive
She sees only white
No more patterns. Her chest is heavy. Ice digs into her scars. No more curves
All the beauty that was given shall be taken
With empty, glow
Slow loss of feeling begins from her feet
The universe tends towards entropy
Heat is energy and so it shall spread to the hungry endless cold
She can’t feel her legs
Just the gashes in her arms
From the cruel hands that sent her running to the mountains
To die here, would it be so bad?
Suffocating
She thinks maybe the snow above will miss her
But snow will keep on just as it had before
Falling in its beautiful softness onto the solid icy ground,
A soul buried hundreds of feet below
Too deep for anyone to understand, to listen
The snow won’t hear her screams
The snow will lightly fall
too cold to evaporate
even from the heat of her glowing heart
The snow no longer beckons her up into its sparkling smooth mountainside
She can no longer feel her middle
Untouched
She can no longer feel her face
Unseen
She can no longer feel her hands
Strength built over time to be erased sweetly
By the soft fallen snow as it solidifies, compacts, pushes her under
And many a Traveler wonders what happened to the loud , shouting, exasperated girl
But it was her choice to run along the side
Where no one walks
To listen to the whispering spirit in the cold
She couldn’t take the precious crystalline flakes with her
For they would only melt if she wandered far
She knew she was starving
But another hunger

Unfulfilled Buried Empty
Can you hear me? I’m screaming for you
her last breath
will not echo
decaying, when her body can not
held in place
until the world itself changes