The night had crept upon me slowly,
Unaware, there was nowhere to turn.
In utter blackness, I heard them,
It was too much snow to tell, but the
Snorts revealed a flock of deer,
Roe deer or perhaps reindeer,
They were coming my way.
The leader, a beautiful doe,
Halted and looked at me.
There was something in her eyes,
A reflection, all lit up, it reminded me
Of someone I had forgotten, a treasure
I had perhaps stopped chasing, but
When the doe turned and headed for
The forest, I decided to follow her.
I am still, following her I mean.
And little by little, as her footprints deepen,
I begin to remember, just who
She reminds me of…
I crossed that white frozen-over moor
As slowly as I could. There was only the moon
For light. The icy snow was glazed with
Hoarfrost, shimmering and slippery. How still
It was, not a breath of wind, only tree-less peaks,
Stagnant and tall. I was the only living thing there,
Against, not a sky, no, it was more of an inscrutable
Vastness threatening to swallow my every step,
And devour me in its, not stillness, but complete
Absence of sound, yet, I was not scared, no,
It was more of the opposite, I rejoiced, for this,
This overpowering inscrutability that should have
Made me feel small and insignificant, did the
Opposite, it made me feel like everything.
It wasn’t a black hole into which everything emerged,
It was white light, reflecting everything, but
Taking in nothing. And for one night, and
One night only, I was that white light.
I was the midwinter and I was the moor, and my skin
Disintegrated and there was nothing left of me
But diamonds, scattering angelically on
The icy snow, covered
in someone’s Footprints.
You are melancholy, like a beautiful journey
about to end. And for a moment,
I can still see the molten dress
Of abandonment, draped
Around your shoulders.
And my heart tries to reel you in,
But my clockwork wheels are spinning too fast,
Turn towards the sea,
Where the migratory night has started
Erasing memories from the horizon,
Like sandy footprints, fading
Into your oceanic soul,
Where there is a longing,
You are never absent,
Parting us, like an old unmapped road
With landmarks of fire