I thread my needle through the eye of winter; stitching into my skin the elements of frost, snow, bitter. Voices on the wind urge me to shed my summer skin, and burrow deep inside my furry hide; to hibernate, to contemplate; to thrive.
The full moon skitters beyond scudding clouds shimmering in mercurial light. My dream self travels unimpeded by the icy cold in the deepest, darkest mid of night. The frozen landscape, eerie, blissful, bright.
My exhalations echo; icicles cracking in the stillness; tinkling in a free fall to shatter solid ground. Absorbed like sound waves muffled by the snow, my breath no longer resonates, reverberates.
My heart beats still.
Quiet roars inside my veins. Blood pounds inside the circle of my skin. Clouds form whispers that skitter through my brain.
Am I undone? Or, just reborn?
Knowledge; swift as sin...I can indeed, begin, again.