To freeze,

Is a part of life.

But to melt, …

Many paths,

Look the same.

Which today, …

Things foreign,

Can at times,

Resemble dreams. …

His stories,

Were filed away,

Behind closed doors. …

I crave tranquility,

Inside.

But around me, …

On a rare,

Blue-skied winter day,

A galloping white horse, …

On days,

When the sun,

Paints the sky, …

To arrive,

Where I dream,

I must cross valleys, …

Days,

When life wore me down.

Slumped in a corner, ,,,

Inside,

They patiently wait.

Ancient memories, …

It is the roots,

That are deep,

In plain sight, …

Maybe one day,

We’ll live in a world,

Without labels, …

Sometimes,

My eyes seem to refuse,

What they readily see. …

Handles freeze.

The insecure,

Cling. …

Frozen fields,

Covered with cracks,

Where fires burn, …

It is her,

I see in my dreams.

The scent of her hair, …

In winter’s cold breeze,

Under blue skies,

The trees swayed, …

To stand out,

Or be discreet.

Life can feel strange, …

Where we live,

Is often icy and cold.

But with her, …

That which yesterday,

Was accidentally lost,

Today I found. …