I remember the frost that morning,
- painting the window in a satin-white.
How it burned my throat when I inhaled;
the distant scent of someone’s open-fire,
- curling through the atmosphere a thick fragrance of Maple.
The trees dressed in winter’s coat of freshly lain snow.
The sky was hanging low in the mountains as I looked ahead.
I even heard the soft landing of snowdrops
- From the surrounding branches.

My skin felt rough and tight
- as I walked further on,
My nose feeling of someone else’s.
I could feel the pangs of old age hit me
- like a time-bomb.
But it was no use returning,
I only had to march on. Crunch, crunch,
below my snow-boots,
When at last I realized I had reached a gravel road.

The dawn awoke behind the somber mists of clouds.
I could just catch a glimpse of sun-rays within a break.
Oh, how glorious
she bathed me in a pool of warmth
before dispersing at once,
alone again in my frozen world;
Though, I never faltered
and continued to walk down the snowy path.
Crunch, crunch, continued my boots,
my arms swinging right after the other,
Front-to-back, front-to-back.
I scaled the peak of the hill,
(the hill I’d spend all my days upon as a child)
covered in a thick layer of snow;
Its’ features all too familiar to hide.
It aged with me through a life of joy and pain
as though an old friend. And now I stood
- in the place no longer welcoming like it used to be.
My heart filled with a void that I could not process,
- could not or would not.
And the sad scene of my past
only plunged deeper into my consciousness
- pulling from its’ depth a Charles Dickens’s quote.
It is as follows:
“Happy, happy Christmas that can win us back to the delusions of our childhood days, recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth and transport the traveler back to his own fireside and quiet home.”
And deep within a melancholic-faze,
I departed from the distant view of my home.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The bag I carried seemed to grow with each step
and after what I only could have guessed was hours in,
I found myself stooped over a rock
- rummaging the contents of my pack.
I leaned back beneath a frozen Willow and munched on an apple.
Gazing out at the flourishing scene God had bestowed me; the trees mid-thought,
and I wondered what they must have been thinking
- when at that moment, winter’s angry hand
- broke the silent beauty of autumn and shook the trees bare;
their life strewn upon the ground
- and replaced by a thick layer of ice.
But what of the brushes or flowers?
Were they not too silenced, frozen in time?
A thousand questions buzzed through the hemispheres of my brain.

When the clouds would split
- the sunshine would pour in heaping rays of gold in my walk,
- just as she ripened through the morning hours.  
The snow had stopped falling and the stillness of the land comforted me;
Only my thoughts and the random flutter of birds broke the silence.
The snow surrendered beneath my feet,
crunch, crunch,
- gravel shooting high into the air.
My legs carried me aimlessly unbeknownst of the destination.
And overtime, the cold seemed to eat away through my suit, wrapping tightly around my joints;
the pain was more than my aged body would let me bear
- with my heart pumping bitterly through the frozen hemisphere.
The very thought of the beautiful landscape which beheld my gaze,
having ever play a part in bitter sorrow of those even most fortunate,
- boggled the very life of me. And Mother Nature seemed not quite finished,
as she whipped a brisk chill breeze through the bristly oaks.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sun was my only comfort and I longed for its’ presence.
It danced around the complexities of my synapses with a cruelness,
- Its image just as vibrant in thought, as it would have been before me;
- As though, someone, had pulled the earth closer to the sun.
And the excruciating thought only made the ice colder,
- snow deeper, and wind harder.
I felt tiny needle-like ****** where my skin was bare
- and a cruel pressure as though a force was splitting my flesh in two.
Then, that blinding flash flooding my sight;
I couldn’t see my feet. So strong and powerful,
- I thought I had unknowingly fallen into the center of the earth.
Though my eyes adjusted before any real panic set in, becoming clear.
I looked up and marveled in the exposing warmth;
God smiled upon my weak, aging soul, one last time.
Colors in majestic tones and lifetimes apart
- overlapped the silk shimmer of afternoon sunlight.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Two o’clock and I trudged through the thick snow
- as adamant and determined as the moment I first set foot outside.
My moist hair protruded from beneath my hat,
- a result from the sporadic snowfall.
The trees echoed with the call of birds; their beautiful songs
- bellowed clear and shook the boughs in harmonious celebration.
I felt as though a surge of relentless joy lifted me from the heartache of the walk.
I, was a part of something bigger than I could ever imagine,
- the unity of blood and soul, the bond of humanity and their heritage.
I could see my Ancestors pillaging the forest floors for scraps of food
- walking this very path. Such dream was mine,
to walk hand-in-hand with my family again,
- to rejoice at the sight of snow rather than cringe.
To hear the floorboards creak from the mass of human pressure
- rather than the creeping age of the foundation;
- to hear the echo of my sweetheart down the hall.
There was nothing left to show for a lifetime of love
- but a broken heart and memories, all of which haunted me.
I became so distracted from my journey that I hadn’t realized
- how far off course I was. I gazed at the empty, bare trees,
- for the first time unfamiliar with their presence.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Hours passed and I could feel the wind grow heavy and frequent.
The sky showed no sign of improvement, but only seemed to increase in clouds.
I pulled my coat to me tighter and tucked my hands beneath my arms.
It was not long after, that I found a suitable place to rest.
I gathered all the sticks nearby and cleaned a shallow area of snow.
The wood burned slowly as the surrounding snow liquefied at light-speed.
Its’ immense heat covered my frozen-self in a blanket of warmth
- and I felt the bulk of the journey fall over me.
My eyelids became as heavy as cement blocks.
I decided to compromise this by giving in
- and falling deep into unconsciousness.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
It was not too clear at first
- the hazy grounds in which I found myself.
There wasn’t snow but that of soft spring grass
- and I was no longer aching from frostbite.
I smelled an overwhelming ample of spring blossoms
- accompanying the gentle breezes. The sunlight sat upon my cheek,
- no cloud in sight. Birds swarmed the open sky
- rejoicing the beautiful weather. What was this place? Where was I?  
There were the plumped-fields encircling the full oak trees,
- the wonderful sun showering the land in a ravishing golden light.
“There you are! I’ve been waiting for you.”
The voice startled me in its’ familiarity.
I opened my mouth to speak but no words came.  
“I’ve missed you so much!” It continued.      
Still not a single syllable could I form.
I looked all around,
- but no source could be found as to the whereabouts of the voice.
I forced myself up and stood at a loss.
Searching every corner, every shaded area but returned with no results.
Crunch, crunch, sounded the pitter patter of feet;
I looked around frantically but just as the voice, I remained alone in the field.
Only the crunch, increased, in speed and numbers;
I closed my eyes tightly and covered my ears
- until it was only the pounding of my heart that broke the silence.
A harsh, cold wind began to blow violently against my face
- and my hands stung with the feeling of my skin being pulled from my fingernails.
I strained to open my eyes and then
- found nothing but the thick suffocation of darkness.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Charred-wood remained beneath the remnants of smoke;
Its base still grasping a hint of light within the pile.
My face felt exposed and raw to the chill,
- burning with the intensity of a bonfire.
My fingers beyond that, to the point of numbness;
I couldn’t even feel my lips. I had lost control of my nerves;
I felt a madness possess my senses
and I struggled to contain as much rationality as possible.
I reached into my coat pocket for my matchbox
and with one strike of the flint,
- a tiny brilliant flame danced in direction with the wind.
And the light as though a disease,
- spread rapidly to the remaining wood. My environment became clear
- and I gazed up noticing the presence of the moon.
What time was it?
A sudden grumble arose from within the darkness
and I, continuing to fall in and out of unconsciousness.
But it wasn’t until I nearly dozed off
- that I recognized a most foreign presence; I was no longer alone.
A fierce set of eyes had been watching me; inching closer and closer.
They stared with the intensity of a 1000 hungry eyes
- coming closer until at last I caught a glimpse more of my visitor.
Her fur displayed sheen like that of the ocean at dawn;
Her eyes radiated a beautiful emerald hue.
She refrained from baring her teeth, though I knew why she was there.
I leaned up and between my chattering-teeth I spoke:
“I know why you’re here,”
The words did not come without consequence
for my lips split wide open from the sudden ****.
“. . . But it's not your job . . . not today!”
She studied my indigent-state, as grasped my coat to me tighter.
She sat down where she stood gazing with a longing.
her full-coat folding over her joints as she sunk further into the snow
- resting her head upon her paws, slowly closing her eyes.
And soon I followed suit, closing mine, and drifting off. ©

Bound for Home
Dawn rested still, upon the horizon as the clouds circled the sun like hungry hawks.
The sky contemplated its’ disguise between a dismal gray and a crisp-blue.
My head ached as I stirred from my winter-induced coma
- and found myself gazing up at an inviting sunrise.
Bright, beautiful colors swam in the sea of sky,
tireless pinks and reds masked in specks of gold
- enveloped the thick purple clouds.
With the immaculate mix of hues
it would have appeared that God Himself
- was trying to entice me to go on living.
For, in the midst of life, we are in death,
Heaven must be of moments like this
- when the balance of life is harmonious.
Perhaps I was dead, I was beyond pain,
- and the sky was the clearest I had ever seen.
I attempted to move but found myself unable to,
- my legs pinned down, seemingly more like hell
as the beautiful open sky before me
clung to the riches of the earth with my poor soul
- confined to the fleshy-tombs of sin.
My eyes fell upon a creature of familiar air,
- as it twitched between the rise and fall of a pulsating-chest.
Upon further investigation,
I was shocked to discover the body to be that of a dog
- no not a dog . . . a wolf . . .
- the wolf from the previous night.
She stirred with a sigh and lifted her massive head.
My breath went coarse and my heart began to pound
- as though it were fighting to presume its’ natural rhythm.
She turned her attention to me as I gasped,
- her deep blue expression seemed tamed, almost human-like.
Though for some unknown reason, I was not frightened,
- only, surprised and relieved at how tender she was.
She stumbled in her morning-daze to her feet and stepped back.
I studied her manner, still skeptic, but overall excepting of my new friend.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
A few hours after staggering to my feet,
I was working the feeling back into my right foot.
It never regained itself as did the rest of me,
- so I stooped over a blazing fire vigorously rubbing it.
The sun shone bright through the tree tops
- and I relished every moment she spared.
Back in my limbo, I pressed on,
- no food, and limited supplies.
My wolf-friend jumped through the snow
- racing me along the path,
- she only stopped to look back when she did not hear me.
I adored how it was that she could have easily disguised herself in the snow,
- her beautiful white fur carrying only a slight tint in the tail and behind her ears.
I halted in my steps to process my thoughts,
-but the grip of winter tightening about my brain, made it impossible,
All that could be accessed was the presence of a single quote.
(Funny how moments can be broken by the strangest occurrences.)
I gazed ahead at the majestic grace of the wolf, only to say:
“The joy in looking and comprehending
- is nature’s most beautiful gift.”
“That was poet John Dryden . . . " I continued.
Life has a reason to its' madness as did I to my thoughts,
That quote had its' reason for presenting itself at that moment.
And as though needing some approval I began to think aloud:
“The greatest gift given to humankind is the blessed view around us.
The process of slowing down
so one might gaze upon the glories of mother earth.”
“I am still here, so I must consider the reasoning behind this.”
The wolf tilted her head then jumped back into a running position
- left me far behind.
I suppose I am not terribly angry at this most unfortunate dilemma.
Why who knows, it could bring forth a plethora of final moments to reflect upon.
Anyhow, if winter does not finish me,
- then most certainly hunger and dehydration will, I thought to myself.
My friend, at this point, was not in eyesight and the first snowfall started.
And with any signs of our existence soon disappearing beneath the fresh layer of snow,
I took it upon myself to rest my aching feet.
I glanced up and called, my voice shaking through the empty walls of land.
"We shall rest here."
The trumpeting gallop of paws brought her back into my sight.
She circled around my stooping body and stretched herself out.
“You are very kind to aide me in my final days.
You are not like the others.
I haven’t had the pleasure in having a true friend in years.
So . . . since you are a friend,
I can’t very well be calling you, “Wolf . . . ”
Everyone needs a name if they wish to be claimed
. . . You remind me of an old beauty.
- Something not seen since long ago.
Hmm . . . Mika!
- . . . Yes, with a foreign beauty such as yours’ . . .
Mika fits very well indeed.”
She glanced up at me with a light dispersing from her eyes,
- as though satisfied with my decision; a blessing upon her name.
After a while my eyelids fell victim to a weight and slowly they closed.
“Perhaps . . . ” I mumbled.
“ . . . a nap for us aged-souls.”
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The fresh frost seeped into my pants as I forcibly opened my eyes.
The hours chasing away the light as twilight descended.
My head ached and stomach cried out from hunger-pains.
I found Mika sound asleep upon my legs.
She had an atrocious snore that could wake any nearby town.
“Mika!” I whispered. “Wake up Mika.”
Her eyelids moved,
- then slowly blossomed two beautiful blue eyes.
I pulled out from under her and grabbed any nearby sticks and fallen branches.
Of all my supplies the matchbox was the most used.
I pulled out one of the few remaining matches and struck it.
Within moments the fire spread throughout the wood and light flooded us and the trees.
Mika stood to her feet and yawned. She then ****** her head and ran into the darkness.
“Mika!” I cried.
She had not returned for some minutes when I heard the rustling of something from within the thick black surrounding myself and the fire.
“Mika?” I cried out again.
A dark figure appeared dragging with it some unknown object.
As it came closer I noticed the gentle white of Mika’s fur.
She had with her a branch of some sort. I arose to look closer.
It was a holly branch, on which grew clusters of bright red berries.
She struggled with bringing it toward the fire
- but the branch was no match for her strength as she dropped it at my feet.
I sat back down by the light and stared at the branch.
She let out one enormous bark,
demanding in tone, as though giving me an order.
“What, am I to do with this?” I asked puzzled.
Again she barked that demanding bark and began to incessantly whine.
“Mika, if this is what I’m thinking your actions to be true . . .”
I continued. “I am not eating that!”
"I appreciate your enthusiasm
- no matter how inconvenient and wearisome it maybe.
However, I must put before, anything else that of which I came here to do."
She whimpered beneath her pants
- stepping in closer as if to gesture an insistence.
The fire pulsated against her thick coat as she nudged the branch toward me.
I gazed at her unmoved continuing:
“You’ve delayed me a day already!
You were a witness to last night.
You watched me lie by the fire,
you saw the emptiness in my eyes, the lack of life."
She did not understand I could see
as she remained just as stubborn as I in her position before me.
My weariness grew and after some moments of exchanges I stated:
"I will not entertain your desire to continue on!”
“Do you understand . . . I refuse to.
I am ready to die . . . I miss my family.”
She walked over to me and rested her head delicately upon my lap.
“I know what you must be thinking.” I went on.
“You’re thinking, no problem is worth dying over
and perhaps you’re right,
but I no longer wish to waste my life living in this hell.”
She lifted her head to gaze up at me.
“I’ve lost everyone . . . I dug the graves for each one with my own two hands.
I live with that knowledge,
and this painful beating continues to pump the blood through my veins."
She retained her composure of wistful regards in the deep pool of her blue sight.
"I no longer wish to live,
- when my family remains six-feet deep in the rich soil they helped to plow!
Without family what is there to life? Whom do I laugh with, cry with?”
“Family is life . . .
- without them there is no life.
It has been this way since the dawning of all humanity."
I stopped upon the realization that my conversation was one-sided
simply finishing by stating:
“My dear little Mika, you are a wolf
and wolves are known for their obedience to their pack.
I am simply longing to return to mine."
The fire popped and cracked in its’ brilliant motion
and I remained quiet until my consciousness surrendered to the night.

Fresh was the morning atop the snowcaps lain,
Like crystal specks shimmering in the golden sun,
And tethered within the thick rocky-terrain,
It bounced its rays off of the peaks one-by-one,
These fragile ice-castles in their powdery-vale,
-Cradled the impact of the fallen hail.
The sun rippled sparks off the archaic Gneiss,
-Antiquating the gilded pool of beams,
The blooms were encased in a fortress of ice,
Sound asleep in their seasonal dreams,
The land embraced in the arms of father frost,
-Was buried deep and the ivory fields were lost! ©

I woke up in the morning,
When it was storming,
-Then I heard the buds of May,
Rise up from the dead earth,
Giving life of rebirth,
Beneath that sky of gray,

I don't know why I did not hear,
The birds of April Sing,
I thought I heard them once before,
As I sat wondering,

I walked down the stairs then,
Into my kitchen,
Heard the raindrops fiercely fall,
Echoing the house through,
As the thunder then grew,
Sounding throughout my front hall,

I don't know why I stayed that day,
To hear the sounds of spring,
I should have left and gone away,
Instead I sit and sing,

But I know if I stay I can play
Off their flesh cocoon,
The flowers much display,
(I don't know why I did not laugh
before the end of day)
And though I stroll with the spring in my soul,
I can feel the life is beating I am whole,
(The beauty of the world is clear
a ringing of my prayer)

I went up to my window,
Where I heard the wind flow,
Softly brushing at the pane,
The glass began to rattle,
The sentimental-tattle
About the journeys of the rain,

I thought I heard my Mary shout,
To all the buds below,
"Bloom full the colors all about,"
"Through time you'll surely grow,"

With the seasons all changing through time,
Life will surely be to Heaven in its' prime,
(The wisdom of this earth I sing
in all the joy life brings)
For my darling we all have a part,
In the greener peaces of the "mother" heart,
(Lift all the sounds and then rejoice,
pump up your freedom-voice.)

I woke up in the morning,
When it was storming,
-Then I heard the buds of May,
Rise up from the dead earth,
Giving life of rebirth,
Beneath that sky of gray. ©

The woods flourished with the white vale of winter
as I trampled the overgrown weeds and brush beneath.
Crunch, crunch, my boots once again
conducting the sound of two worlds colliding, that of mankind and nature.
I walked with no certain purpose and found myself puzzled
- as to my next course of destination. There was no use
returning to such an empty house that would drive me to extinction,
but where then would that leave me?
I cannot possibly live out in the woods too much longer
with a life I find unnecessary. But is it clear
- that I should be the one to decide my fate?
The questions poured in endlessly,
causing my attention to otherwise stray from the path ahead.
My feet below upon the snow, crunch crunch,
my boots echoing through the thick oaks and maples.
But just then, I stumbled downward through a river of gravel,
finally resting at the bottom of a steep hill;
the snow soaked through my back,
my head pounding as it had violently slammed into the rocks.
And then a stream of shocking pain running the course of my leg,
it was so sudden that it jolted my stomach.
Upon leaning up in a great deal of struggle
I gazed my bewildered eyes upon a large rusted iron claw
one inch or so, within my ankle. It resembled that of a jaw,
with both an upper and lower layer of teeth which gripped the entirety of my ankle.
The strength of the rusty-trap welded through
with wild-flight the layers of skin only to halt its mission upon hitting my bone.
I wanted to scream, but I bit my lip, and cried.
Tears escaping in numbers ran down the length of my face
as I positioned myself closer to the monstrosity.
I tried to maneuver my foot out of its‘ grasp
but that only caused more pain to shoot up my leg.
By this time a small pool of blood had formed around my foot
gushing from my failed attempt to escape.
I felt Avery’s eggs rise up my throat but forced them back down.
I tried earnestly to keep from shaking
for every movement even breathing, shot through me like a ton of jagged nails.
The iron jaw of some hunter’s vain attempt at catching food
like a dog’s tireless bite cut deeper.
I heard the sharp scratching of the metal-teeth
shaving a thin layer of my bone. I clenched my teeth so hard
to keep from screaming that I began to taste blood.
And the silence of the surrounding land
refrained from any hope that I might be rescued.
Like a dog, I thought, left here to starve and die. ©

I awoke in a grave of an over-grown wood,
Where above my head the treetops stood,
And a light shone the timber and brush of the ground,
Where the moss of all ages created a mound,
The weeds were extreme in their length everywhere,
- Leaving in sight not a single plant bare.

Then I spied from the scene just to the west,
The wings of an eagle poking out from a nest,
I climbed from my grave and proceeded to call,
When he dropped what he had in the pit of his claw
A ring rolled out into the dried prickly grass,
The gem of a ruby as shiny as glass,
The gem was laced from top to bottom in gold,
And carved inside, two initials in bold.

The eagle stared with large curious eyes,
As he turned with great haste up toward the skies,
He opened his beak, and let out a screech,
"A human a human, a soul-******* leach!"
When in minutes I heard a strange pounding occur,
- their faces in numbers came, in a blur,
I gazed upon the massive structures of beasts,
Over one hundred species I counted at least.

They pulled me with force to their chests with a roar,
As we started with haste through the arboreous floor,
Then coming out into an opening pass,
- I gazed up the face of a broad rocky-mass,
With urge it had seemed it was up we were bound,
We trudged up a steep incline in the ground,  
Two towers formed at the top of the mountain,
As we hiked up the rock past a lion-head fountain.
We climbed a great length over dirt, weeds, and gravel,
With the towers ahead growing more in our travel.

I looked at the faces, the snouts, and the beaks,
I could hear the snorts, the grunts, and the squeaks.
Their claws inching further with  strength in their grip,
I could hardly keep up as I started to slip,
They would cry victory in their native tongue,
With howling and croaking both old and the young,
I retreated my steps but they held on too tight,
The gravel rolled back as I started to fight.
They snarled and drooled and gleamed their red eyes,
As the towers in front continued to rise.©

The rugged texture of the game,
The crowd yelling out your name,
The brushing wind throughout the court,
The intensity of the sport,
Jumping from this side to that,
Racing where the ball is at,
Hitting it, in mid-air,
Back and forth throughout the square,
The passion of the game is bliss,
End my ode to tennis.

I bit down into your luscious, sweet lip,
Like a ripe Gold and Delicious,
I ***** you of your virginity with only one kiss,
And from the dawn of time has there never been,
A more perfect kiss,
Wet, hot, passionate, yet sweet and soft,
I gently moved my fingers up along your shoulders,
Till they nestled along side each cheek of your face,
Pressing myself upon you more and more,
With every heart beat,
And so there we were,
Locked within a catacomb of lust,
Our heads throbbing and whizzing,
Time died when I kissed you,
A sentiment I won't soon forget,
And I didn't even know your name.