Hopeful eyes, darting and piercing about the terrain, strain to depict a clear scene through the flurry of snow dancing and sparkling in the crisp morning light. Glistening lips exhale a puff of warm breath into the icy sky, leaving a cloud of whispers and songs trailing through the vast expanse of atmosphere. Ruddy cheeks, sprinkled with freckles and the shadow of holy kisses, glow a soft pink as a prancing wind caresses the rosy skin. That same wind throws a mess of wildly curling locks, dark as a chocolate fountain, into an unashamed dance as they bounce and jolt with every twist and step. The cascade seems it's own living being, the way it flies just behind those hopeful features, always a step behind, yet perfectly in time with the song that pours from those tender lips. Two small feet, safely nestled in their snug boots, tingle with the sensation of each step as they flit down a snowy path, looping round and round, lost in the sway and rhythm of the music that now swirls with the flakes. A heart, locked in safety, beats wildly against the bars holding it in place. A flash of memory sails through a beautiful mind: a memory of that heart, twisted, blackened and cracked. That mind was polluted, small wrists bore the scars of the pain within, bleeding out. It was a season of darkness, pain, fear and loneliness. But that was then. The weight of the now golden heart is almost too much to bear. Two desperate lungs burn with each breath, sweating palms are strained with clutching a pile of books to a heaving *****. Dancing feet are stilled; jade green eyes pierce the heavens with their gaze, searching for someone in an eternal expanse. For the briefest of moments, a glimpse of His splendor is seen. His whisper in the wind, His spirit in the snow. His imprint on the ground, His fond gaze resting upon the source of his affection. As His bride glides on down the path, the soul within is bathed with light, joy, and hope; full beyond measure by the knowledge it holds. She is His. I am Yours.