The path through the
heavy pine and white fog
will become the destination
you choose.

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Snow falling across the empty fields
we watch from behind the trees.

The white winter sky falls into
the fields and we are weightless.

Letting go of each branch
we fall into the sky.

Over time we fall back
into the fields.

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Across an empty field scorched
with morning light I see
shadows dancing along the treeline
filling empty spaces.

Is this my field?

I remember little prior to this moment
as winter has settled across the land

and in the depth of winter
we retreat into the awareness of self.

I seek warmth from the shadows
emerging from the scorched field.

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To the darkness that is ever present
that is the shadow following each footstep
that is the fast moving clouds –
I will meet you in the empty fields
filled with ten-thousand lanterns
and put to rest the game we have been playing for years.

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The winter sky holds
the empty field
waiting for the
snow shadows
to fall with silence
and with peace.

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Waiting patiently for the first snow.

Just like a child with face pressed
against the cold window pane and as
soon as the first flake lands silently
in the grass, they call grandma.

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I now walk into your
arms, the words spoken
in passion, black wisps
of hair I brush away,
your eyes a light into the soul.

I now fall into your arms,
your breath against my neck,
I am vulnerable, exposed skin
waiting for your embrace,
I wait for you.

I walk into the wild,
the unknown territory
my heart longs for, the words
of freedom, swirling about,
motions in the air we reach
out to grasp, moments of
solitude, the chance to listen to
the wandering thoughts, the mind
opening up.

Into the wild, the backcountry
of my mind, the thoughts behind
actions of the heart, the soul
reaching out, a voice not
heard, but felt though vibrations.

Deafening silence as the wild
expands the further I emerge into
the tundra, lost and wandering
I keep close your scent and soft touch
upon my chest, the slight pulse of your
veins coaxing my heart to keep going,
during moments of weakness, when
the winter sun rises briefly and hurriedly
sinks, the horizon thinning and the darkness
returning.

I walk into the suns light
the golden sheet cradling me
with eyes closed I see your smile
and the words spoken without hesitation
and I am overwhelmed with pureness,
the honesty, the unflinching eyes.

I walk into the swift Sushana
river, with ice floes and glacial till,
you are there somewhere near the base
of the mountains I can see from here,
the rolling shadows frigid.

And I awaken next to you under
the flaring aurora borealis,
the flashes of opaque green and deep red,
sedge and willow glow and reflect
off the pure snow.

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