I became aware midwinter of
seasonal changes and passed time.
I had been asleep
drifting like silent fog and snowflakes
without a lighthouse or horn.
Surrounded by snow and the
ice trapped within I did
not know which field spread before me
I did not know the year.
In the far distance of many miles,
a mountain rises into clouds
its peak and true nature obscured
for the peak’s shape is an oral history.