The biting cold of wind carrying water off the lake. A sun rising behind the grey storm clouds still in the distance. Ice encased tree on the rocky point. Frozen mist carried along the surface. Berries cling to barren branches providing food to robin and chickadee.
“No words”, as the sky burns and we watch from another place. “No words”, as I remember a time before time standing atop mountains overlooking valleys filled with smoke and spirits of ten thousand beings.