The winter of my heart was cruel and dark. I was alone in the dead of night wandering
a barren forest that gleamed white with newly fallen snow. Lost below the pale, ghostly
glow of a Hunter's moon.
I wished for the deep, endless sleep that claims us all. 'Creator, take my spirit
it is yours to keep.'
I had no more will left to bargain for life. A great Eagle swooped over
my head, 'Get up, there is much yet that you may still do.'
I did not listen. I would have rather taken the easy path than climb
the cliff-edged mountain to find the green valley that waited beyond.
It's yellow eye's all agleam came slinking the Coyote, poking and
prodding with casual apathy. 'Stay in the past - and you will
Lingering on the path between worlds I saw the grey Watcher slip
down the mountain side as silent as an unmoored shadow. 'It is not weak
to fall. It is only weak if you do not pick yourself up. Learn from experience
life has provided. That is strong.'
Winter had come, devouring pieces I did not know I had to lose, but I lived.
I was only weak if I did not finish climbing to the valley awaiting me on the other side.