Have you been here before?

One foot in front of the other
blazing stainless snow with purpose.
Forward
forward through unwitnessed beauty and feeling
not the first appreciator
but the final stroke
in a work of art that has lain dormant for as long as you can remember
but was completed in a breath.

An exhale, specifically.
That's all it took.
Yes steaming silently out of your mouth
like a yawn held too long on a winter morning.

Forward but not necessarily straight.

Dancing with no partner
Glancing back only to see the web of your solitary foxtrot
laid bare on the forest floor.
This tangled path
danced to no music
aided by no person
you almost believe it's your story.
And then you look up.

Steady lights framed by such known walls.
Streams of quiet smoke filter into the atmosphere
and sound returns.
Laughter songs and well-worn voices rush to you.

And here in the forest leaves crackle.