Email Poem

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Poem

a cold bitter wind
	with stinging drops of rain
bits of bitter cold
	blowing into my frozen face

slowly my steps go
	up the hill of man-made stone
my warmth is torn from me
	by the coldness of the world

steel gray clouds race overhead
	fleeing upon the wind
hiding warmth of the sun
	all lies frozen about me

crystals of ice with cutting pain
	now blow into my face
and the wind more bitter now
	does cut me to the bone

dry brown leaves skitter by
	with the sound of tiny claws
borne quickly upon the wind
	their life all stolen away

dirty snow in shadows lie
	about clumps of brown grass
scattered across the land so wide
	where my path does lie

my steps do slowly drag
	to the summits peak
where my weary eyes gazed down
	to the long road that before me lies

the way twists back and forth
	no straight path is for me
slowly across frozen land I must go
	seeking where I would be

before me does the land fade away
	under frigid gray clouds
that the road I pass upon
	continues on below

in the distance I can see
	bright light spearing through the sky
upon the mountain peaks so high
	rising over cloud shrouded land

I do quake in the journey's length
	the many steps so very long
if I'm to reach the patch of light
	I see so very far away

weariness does leech my strength
	fatigue does weigh upon my frame
hope does fade with each weary step
	taken on this gray day

would that one could simply stop
	this journey then set aside
another path there be to take
	to another place to be

yet does light before me shine
	upon the mountain peaks so high
though they lie so very far away
	on the path that I cannot see

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