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Poem

They told me before I left the south
Son, the snow gets kind of dirty down here
And eyes find a fence against the glare
But boy, I see you hankering to go out
And your face be turned north for its spring
And your heart beats after the birds on wing
You long to go where cageless a man can sing
But remember in any mountain the bear's king.

You should have seen me the first I saw snow
White and unblemished, my faith fluttered high
I could not stop staring at the thing if I did try
The light rose from it and seared me in its glow
My vision shattered like glass, too small to cut
The rope dangling above that pit in my gut
And then I looked till liberty was like a slut
And I was old tom shuffling to peace in my hut

I saw the skin's color, alright. The bloodless snow
But I did not see that nature is deeper than skin
Or that innocence must precede each coming sin
When the eyes were wide shut, could I still know?
I was blinded by the light to believe some drop of it
Was still so good, and then captured by the spirit
I felt I should, to some egalitarian faith, commit
Since deep dark is like looking at close and brightly lit

In neither can one tell red from brown, or green
From blue, but I have how even shapes disappear
When the white feathers of frost are strewn here,
There and everywhere: the snow swallows the stare
Of my man who cannot feel the wilderness cold
Seeping through cramps and feet, no sunset gold,
No rust of morning, nor dark of night, we can hold
One beam of faith to support the brightly blinded soul.

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