I Break, I Sow
BY KAYLA STRATHEARN
I am but a traveling thought,
Something so humble and so soon forgot.
My mind wrapped like a bow,
I wonder a path clouded in snow.
In winter the world has gone deaf,
As the still air chills even my breath.
This journey of mine is long, without song.
I stumble and fumble, words in a jumble.
The road is steep, my arms are weak, I plunge on deep.
My end far from sight, against might conquers the fight.
What's this, our Mother in white?
But on Her earth a chill wind bites?
The peak I fear I'm nearing.
Eyes tearing, blind with hearing.
A howling wind and searing snow.
The bend begins to show,
Shreds of hope dare to grow tall
With a bright and glowing ball...
My Sun has come for fun!
I fear its cunning pun,
As I rest still on this summit.
Should my foot fall, I could plummet
To a dark and dreary end.
Still, I feel a coming mend.
The clouds return, leaving subtle burns.
Renewed in spirit, my heart returns.
I continue now, on downward bound.
I head the calling of homeward sound.
A warm embrace and blazing fire,
I put aside the Silver Spire.
At last I've made it down the mountain,
Rejoiced to see my snowing fountain.
My adventures now forgotten, I often smile
And glimpse a clockwise dial.
Forward we walk, much like this clock
To pass twelve with a twirl and continue- tick tock.
PHOTO BY BERNHARD SIEGL
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